❝ 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 sat on the side of his father's bed, leaning his forearm on his legs as he hung his head. This was still all catching up to him and he could hardly believe that his father had been gored by a boar whilst on the hunting trip.
"I should have spent more time with you," Turning his head, Joffrey raised an eyebrow at his father, who was getting paler by the minute. Joffrey just watched. "Shown you how to be a great king."
Joffrey turned back to face the stone of the floor, trying to process and categorize his emotions in his head. But, he was struggling. He didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to cry, or look sad, or smile that the man was going? Instead, he settled on staying blank.
"I was never meant to be a father," Joffrey ground his teeth together at those words. It wasn't the first time that he had heard them, but for his father to say it on his death bed hurt even more than the other times. The door opened, and Joffrey tilted his head to watch Lyra's father and his uncle walk into the room. "Go on, you don't want to see this."
Joffrey didn't need to be told twice, standing up to brush past the two other men in the room without so much as a second glance at the dying man. He didn't want to see him in his final moments.
Turning left, out of the royal household chambers, Joffrey hurried down the stairs and across the main atrium until he reached the walled garden, where he hoped he could breathe properly. The pavilion came into view, and Joffrey stormed in, before leaning against the wall, undoing the top fastening on his shirt as he struggled to breathe.
"Your Grace?" He couldn't look up, still taking heaving breaths, as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Lyra's brown eyes came into view, full of worry at the sight of him. "What's the matter?"
"I...I can't...I can't breathe," He managed to huff out, before Lyra nodded.
"Just follow my breathing pattern," Lyra started to take exaggerated breaths in and out, as Joffrey tried to follow along. His hands were shaking in Lyra's, but she seemed to pretend not to notice as she kept breathing with him. "You're alright. You're safe here."
Taking another deep breath, Joffrey leant his head back until it reached the cold stone wall behind him, and he felt his heart rate dropping back to a steady pattern.
Lyra's overly exaggerated breathing pattern stopped as she waited for him to say something, her hands still in his.
"My father's dying," Lyra hummed, as Joffrey looked back down at her, grinding his teeth again as he looked out at sea. "What...What am I supposed to do? I have no clue how to rule Seven kingdoms and..."
