❝ 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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
{ Joffrey }
✧✦✧
𝕵offrey had gotten used to Small Council meetings with Lyra by his side. He was used to her comforting hold on his hand, her calm tone of voice and her good ideas. But now that she was on bed rest, he was feeling the loss of her presence much more greatly. Especially with the Small Council arguing like three year olds who had not gotten the last biscuit.
He rubbed his forehead, looking at Lyra's empty chair, before turning back to the elders.
"That's enough," They paused, turning to look at him. "You're giving me a headache with your petty squabbling."
"Your Grace..."
"I know that this situation needs to be dealt with, so please draw up proposals and present them to me and then I shall make a decision without having to hear you squabble," Joffrey sighed again, before standing up. "That will be all. I'll summon another meeting when I've made a decision."
They nodded, gathering their papers as they left the room. Joffrey watched them go, before grabbing his pile of papers and flicking through them, crossing off the things that had been completed and circling what he would need to bring up before the next meeting. It seemed, however, that they had barely accomplished anything with this meeting.
"Your Grace!" Joffrey looked up, his eyebrow rising as he saw Arah come running towards him. He furrowed his eyebrows at her heavy breathing and flushed cheeks, before a realisation came to mind.
"Lyra?" Arah nodded and Joffrey took a shaky breath. "What happened? Is she alright? Is she injured?"
"Your Grace, she's alright," Arah regained her breath, trying to soothe the young king. "She's gone into labour."
"What?"
"She's giving birth to your child, Your Grace," Joffrey felt his heart stop momentarily, before he followed Arah out of the room. He handed his papers to Rolan, who was coming to collect him for his next meeting.
"Tell them that the meeting is cancelled and I will see them another day," Joffrey commanded, his hands trembling though his voice was steady. "Lyra's gone into labour and I am going to stay by my wife."
"Of course, Your Grace," Rolan bowed, as Joffrey turned back to Arah.
"Has the Grand Maester been informed?"
"Yes, I intercepted him as he left the meeting, Your Grace," Arah told him. "You were the last person I had to talk to."
