❝ 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 }
✧✦✧
𝖂incing, Joffrey tried his best not to show the clear discomfort on his face, as he shifted on the throne. His shoulder was still aching from the stab wound, and one of the swords was pressing on a bruise in the middle of his back, but he had more important things to think about than his own pain. Turning his head, he caught sight of Lyra, who was standing on the parapet and talking to Sansa in hushed whispers.
He had little time to think of her, as the doors to the Throne Room swung open, and his grandfather rode in on a stallion, glaring at anyone who dared glance at him. Joffrey met his stare head on, refusing to flinch under the weight of it. He would not show weakness in front of this man.
"I, Joffrey of the House Baratheon, first of my name, the rightful king of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realms, do hereby proclaim my grandfather, Tywin Lannister, the savior of this city and the Hand of the King," Joffrey's eyes narrowed as he waited for his grandfather to take the pin and bow. After a moment of hesitation, the man did, and Joffrey nodded in return, still trying not to wince in pain as his shoulder shifted.
"Thank you, Your Grace." Tywin wheeled his horse back around, and rode out of the hall, as Joffrey moved onto the next matter of business.
"Lord Petyr Baelish. Step forward," Joffrey waved his hand, to call the rat-like Lord towards him. Once Lyra had mentioned that the man looked like a rat, Joffrey was unable to un-see the similarities.
Lord Baelish did as told, and knelt at the bottom of the dais, his head bowed low.
"For your good service, and ingenuity in uniting the houses of Lannister and Tyrell, I declare that you shall be granted the Castle of Harrenhall, with all it's attended land and incomes, to be held by your sons and grandsons from this day until the end of time," If Joffrey had his own way, he would be offering the man a block to be executed on, especially with the endeavor that he had just pulled. Joffrey still was not impressed that the man had done it behind his back, without informing him.
"You honor me beyond words, Your Grace," Lord Baelish called, snapping Joffrey out of his reverie. He raised an unamused eyebrow. "I shall have to acquire some sons and grandsons."
The crowd began to chortle as Joffrey kept his face blank in annoyance before glancing up at Lyra who had raised an eyebrow at the terrible joke. She caught his eye again, smiling, and Joffrey felt the annoyance in him subside as he watched her. The crowd stopped laughing, allowing Joffrey to call the final person forward for that day.
"Ser Loras Tyrell," The mousy haired knight stepped forward to bow at Joffrey's feet, allowing the king to continue. "Your house has come to our aid, the whole realm is in your debt, none more so than I. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it and it shall be yours."
