❝ 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 }
✧✦✧
𝕶nocking, Lyra waited outside of the doors, looking up and down the corridor carefully. It was still too early for anyone to be around, even the servants had yet to be up, but she didn't want to take any chances. The door was pulled open, as Joffrey appeared in the doorway.
The blond man didn't say much, just opened the door wider and let her into the room. She had never been to the royal chambers, or Joffrey's apartment before, though she knew that she would be expected to move into it once they married.
The main area of the room was large, with a desk tucked away in the far corner and a dining table in the middle of the room, covered in sheets of paper and books. There were two doors going off of the main room and a large balcony overlooking the port and the walled garden beneath.
"Are you okay?" Joffrey murmured, reaching out for Lyra's hand as she watched the sun rise over the horizon. The girl waited for a moment, struggling to think of a way to say what she wanted to.
"I can't sleep," He hummed at her explanation, reaching up to play with her hair, that was out of it's normal braids. Lyra changed the subject swiftly, not wanting to linger on the thought too long. "Why are you up?"
"I'm working," Joffrey replied, motioning to the mess of papers on his table. Lyra could make out scribbled notes on the side of pages. "There's a lot more than needs to be done."
"Anything I can help with?" He raised an eyebrow at her, before furrowing them and shaking his head. "I need to do something. I can't...I can't just sit around and do nothing."
"Teach me how to braid your hair then," Lyra froze, looking up at the older man in shock. "You always have your hair in those traditional Northern braids. Can you teach me how to do it?"
"I mean...yes," Lyra said, as Joffrey sent her a half-smile. "Have you got a hair brush?"
He nodded, pulling a chair out for the girl, before disappearing through one of the doors and reappearing with a brush in his hands. Lyra sat down in the chair slowly, waiting for the boy to make a reappearance behind her. She hadn't had anyone brush, or braid her hair, for at least a year.
Lyra waited for a moment, before Joffrey began to brush through her hair, gently parting the tangles that had occurred from her restless night of tossing and turning. She began to relax, the motion becoming soothing for her. It reminded her of home and her mother brushing her hair by the fireside.
