❝ 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 }
✧✦✧
𝕵offrey sighed, untensing as the final servant left the nursery where his children slept. It wasn't that he didn't trust them, it was that his mother was still in the city, lurking, and he didn't want that woman anywhere near his children.
The closest to him was his daughter, who was already fast asleep despite the sounds all around her. She was bundled up in a grey swaddle, the same colour as the Stark sigil, a small stuffed toy of a wolf by her head. Joffrey felt himself begin to smile, reaching carefully into the crib to brush his fingers along her hair.
The little girl had Lyra's darker hair and her nose, and Joffrey smiled once more at how much his daughter looked like his wife. She whimpered and Joffrey retreated quickly, not wanting to wake her. He adored his daughter, but the little girl had a pair of lungs on her and if she started to scream, she'd wake her brothers.
On the other side of the room slept his other son, who was wrapped around a little lion toy, though had somehow escaped the swaddle that the servants had put him in only minutes earlier. He was still awake, looking around with bright eyes as Joffrey smiled at the boy, before wrapping him back up and leaving the room.
He shut the door behind him, smiling as he didn't hear any cries from either of the twins, before turning back to the royal nursery. Mikael sat on the floor, surrounded by toy soldiers as he seemed to carry out an elaborate battle plan between them. Joffrey smiled, treading carefully through the soldiers until he was able to crouch by his son.
"What are you doing, Mikael?" The three and a half year old grinned, before holding up a mounted soldier.
"I'm making the soldiers march, like Mama's doing." Joffrey felt his heart clench at the sentence, missing his wife more than anything. He struggled to think of a reply to that, instead choosing to change the subject.
"Why aren't you in bed? Have you been terrorising the servants?" He placed the mounted soldier down, before pulling his son up and into his arms. The boy laughed, burrowing his head into his father's neck as Joffrey smiled and stepped back the way he came.
"Didn't want to. Wanted to see you!" Joffrey smiled at his son's words, opening the other door in the nursery, which lead to Mikael's room. Normally, at this age, the boy would have been moved into his own rooms down the hall from his siblings, but Lyra had put her foot down and refused, leading to many an argument with the Small Council. Joffrey had stood by his wife, trusting her ideas and knowing how lonely he had been when he'd left the comfort of the nursery and his siblings.
