❝ 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 and the smell only made it worse. The stench became overwhelming the closer the Stark party got to the walls and it was a sort of mixture of despair, rotting food, animals and sweat all mixed together. But, the only thing that redeemed the entire city, was the Red Keep that sat atop of the hill.
It was huge, with towers that seemed to climb into the sky, and keep going even further to touch the gods. There were thousands of windows, easily, and Lyra was reminded of that old tale she knew about seeing all of the Red Keep's candles burning in the windows. Now she was here, Lyra wasn't sure what to make of it all.
"I had the same reaction when I first saw it," Lyra glanced over at her father, who was watching her reaction as they traveled through the lower parts of the city. "The Red Keep is even better once you're there."
"It makes Winterfell seem small," Lyra's neck hurt from how much the young woman was looking up. "I think I'm going to get lost."
Her father chuckled, as they reached a second gate that lead into the bottom tier of the keep. Lyra reminded herself to keep her jaw closed, as she stared around at the pale red walls of the inner courtyard, with attendants waiting beside every column. Flowers and ivy crawled up the walls, as a fountain spurted water in the centre of it all. It was such a stark contrast from the city beyond the gates.
Her father pulled his horse to a stop, as Lyra did the same, dismounting quickly as Elia ran to her side. Ever since the incident in the inn, the wolf had taken to staying at Lyra's side as much as possible.
"Get the girls settles in. I'll be back in time for supper," Lyra looked up as a hand was placed on her shoulder. Septa Mordane, who had been the girl's tutor since Lyra was a mere child of five, had appeared behind her with the two younger Starks. "Jory, you go with them."
The attendant, that was standing in front of her father, nodded, before more servants descended on the party. Someone pulled Blanche's reins from her hand, whilst another appeared in front of her and began to lead them into the marble corridors of the keep. The white rock provided a welcome reprieve from the beating sun and the humidity of the South, and Lyra basked in the temperature before the attendant came to a stop outside of a pair of large oak doors.
As their father had accepted the position of the King's Hand, the Stark chambers were considerably more luxurious than other guest quarters. Entering the room, Lyra looked around the large atrium in awe. A balcony, that was drenched in sunlight and flowers, lay on her right, and the rest of the large room was painted a gold colour that reflected the afternoon glow. Corridors branched off to the left and right, as the attendant began to explain who's chambers were located where. Elia was already snuffling around the corner of the room, seeming to look for any interesting critters in the crevices as Lyra tuned back in to the attendant's ramblings.
