❝ 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 }
✧✦✧
𝕰arly morning sunlight filtered through the curtains and onto Lyra's face, as Joffrey traced her lips with his thumb, smiling as her eyes began to flutter open.
"Morning, My Love," Lyra grinned, like a cat who had got the cream, before curling further into Joffrey as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "It's time for us to get up."
"If we must," She mumbled, yawning as she rolled off of the large bed and headed towards the bell that summoned Arah and Rolan, Elia padding along beside her. Joffrey smiled as he watched her, though his eyes lingered on his wife's stomach.
"Morning, Rolan," Joffrey called, as the manservant appeared through the service corridors, bowing to the pair quickly.
"Good morning, Your Grace," Rolan pulled some clothes out for the man.
"Your Grace," Arah called, giving him a short curtsy, before hurrying to Lyra's side to prepare her for the day ahead.
"What is our agenda today?" Joffrey asked, pulling his dark jacket over the top of his white shirt, and pressing a kiss to Lyra's head as she yawned once more.
"Lord Varys would like to speak to you this morning, preferably as soon as possible. You then have a meeting with the Hand about the Iron Bank and when the execution of Lord Tyrion should be held. Queen Lyra has a meeting with the Lady Margaery after lunch," Rolan told the two rulers. Lyra grinned as she appeared in a golden dress, which was made of a floaty material that shimmered as she walked.
"I do not envy you, Joff," Lyra smiled, sitting in front of the vanity.
"We shall break our fasts in our room. Lord Varys can come to meet us here," Joffrey called, waiting for Rolan and Arah to walk out, before he took the brush from Lyra's hand and began to un-tangle her hair and re-braid it in the traditional Northern braids that Lyra had taught him close to a year ago.
"Perfect, Joff," Lyra grinned, tilting her head back so that Joffrey could lean down and press a kiss to her lips. She smiled, breaking into laughter as Joffrey rolled his eyes at his wife. "You are a natural. If we have a girl, I bet that she will go to you to get her hair braided instead of coming to me."
Joffrey smiled to himself at the thought of a little girl, a mix of him and Lyra, running around and sitting in his lap as she waited for him to braid his hair. He liked the idea of it.
Arah returned moments later, snapping Joffrey out of his daydream, with two other serving girls and began to put foods onto the table in front of the two rulers.
