𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 | Travelling

{ Lyra }

✧✦✧

𝕷ooking around her room, Lyra barely managed to keep a look of disgust from appearing on her face. Her room was completely bare, everything packed into her trunk to take down South. Elia sat by the mirror, whining every so often at the bareness of the room.

"I know, Elia," Lyra did a triple check of the room, trying to see whether or not she had missed anything. The only things left was her riding cloak and gloves, that lay on the bare mattress.

"I can't believe you're going," Lyra span around to see Robb leaning against the door frame. He was looking around in shock at her bare room, shaking his head. "It's going to be quiet without you three."

"You're betrothed's coming soon," Lyra pointed out. "Hopefully, that will liven the place up."

"Hopefully," Robb shook his head, before stepping in and holding something out for the woman. "This is for you."

"You shouldn't have," Lyra took the scabbard from Robb's hands, and opened it to reveal an intricate dagger. "It's beautiful, Robb."

"It's to protect you, when Jon and I aren't around to do that," Lyra smiled, pulling her eldest brother down into a tight hug. He willingly reciprocated it, tightening his grip on her. "You stay safe and I want letters. Every week."

"Of course," She felt Robb press a kiss to her head, as another cough sounded at the door. Lyra looked over Robb's shoulder, to see Jon leaning against the door frame. He walked in as well, throwing his arms around the pair as they hugged one and other. "Don't freeze at the wall."

"Aye, I'll try not to," The trio pulled away from one and other, as Lyra strapped the dagger to her belt. "If that prince does anything untoward, stab him. You can always come to the wall with me to stay safe."

Lyra laughed, shaking her head. 

"They don't allow girls at the wall," Jon shrugged.

"I'm sure that we can make an exception for you," Lyra laughed, before pulling her cloak on and grabbed her gloves. Hooking an arm through Robb's, she let him lead her down to the courtyard, where everyone was preparing to leave.

"Next time we see you, you'll be all in black," Robb smiled over at Jon, as Ghost and Elia play fought in front of the three of them.

"It was always my colour," Lyra snorted, as Jon looked down at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe that's because black clothes have a slimming effect on the wearer." Jon tried to grab her, as Lyra ducked under Robb's arm, so that she was hidden on the other side. The eldest Stark child laughed loudly at the pair, watching Lyra stick her tongue out at Jon.

"Come on now," Lyra and Jon both stopped, as Robb shook his head with a smile. "You know, sister, we'll be bowing when we next see you."

Lyra pulled a face, as the king appeared to get on his horse and leave. The trio turned to one and other again, as Robb placed a final kiss to Lyra's forehead and embraced Jon.

"Farewell, Snow. Don't fall off the wall," Robb smiled at his own quip, before turning to storm back inside as Blanche and Jon's horse were brought to the pair. Jon helped Lyra on quickly, before vaulting onto the back of his own horse.

Whistling for Elia, Jon and Lyra turned back to face the front of the entourage, where they watched the king struggle to get on his horse. Spinning Blanche around once more, Lyra caught sight of her father's stare and sighed.

"It looks like I have to go and entertain the prince and king," Jon looked up, before grimacing for her.

"I don't envy you, sister," Leaning across, Jon pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and smiled. "Stay safe in the capital."

"Only if you promise not to start any fights at the Wall," Jon nodded, before Lyra spurred Blanche forward to where her father was waiting. Elia was following along behind her, scaring the horses.

"Have you said all your goodbyes?" Lyra nodded, as her father lead her along side the prince, Jaime Lannister and the king.

"You let your daughter ride with you?" The king boomed with laughter, and Lyra clenched her teeth to stop from saying anything.

"Well, Lyra is a competent rider, much like Lyanna," The king went very quiet after that, before he set the party off out of the gates.

Lyra turned one last time as they left, taking in the towers of her home and the Stark flag that was fluttering in the wind. It would be the last time that she was home in a while. Feeling a presence on the other side of her, Lyra looked over to see the prince riding next to her. This may be an even longer ride than she thought.

✧✦✧

"How are you finding the riding, my Lady?" Lyra turned at Joffrey's words. The prince was looking down at her with cold eyes, even if he was still facing towards the front.

"Refreshing," She smiled, watching as Elia appeared from the bushes on the side of the King's Road, a rabbit in her mouth. "It's been too long since I was last able to have a long ride. I missed it."

Joffrey hummed, as Jaime Lannister rode past them, an arrogant expression on his face. He turned back to look at them, flashing Lyra what he probably thought was a charming smile. She fought another grimace. He was old enough to be her father.

The prince seemed to notice, as he raised an eyebrow at his uncle and then at Lyra, but the Kingslayer rode on to speak to both of their fathers. Elia appeared once more, loping beside Blanche as Joffrey watched the wolf with curiosity. Lyra pulled another strip of dried meat from her pocket and threw it up in the air. 

Elia leapt up, snapping the meat up, as Jaime Lannister's horse skittered in fear, having not noticed the wolf appearing. Lyra bit her lips, as the older Lannister was forced to put both hands back on the reins, after he was throne forward, before placing a demure smile on her face as the man rode back to be by his sister's carriage.

"You did that on purpose," Lyra looked at Joffrey, before shaking her head.

"I would do no such thing," Joffrey's lip quirked upwards in a small smirk, as Lyra grinned at him, before bringing it back under control as her father turned around to narrow his eyes at her. "You do have to admit, it was funny."

"Slightly," Lyra nodded her head, as she let out a giggle and watched as Elia wandered back off again. "What type of dog is she?"

"Not a dog," Joffrey looked at her from the corner of his eye, as Lyra smiled. "Elia's a direwolf. Only a pup at the moment, of course, and she still has a lot of growing to do. When she reaches her full height, she'll be almost at my shoulders."

"I thought there were no direwolves south of the wall," Lyra nodded.

"Well, there weren't," She took a hand off of her reins, as she began to explain. "We found a dead direwolf mother and she had seven pups, so now there are seven direwolves south of the wall."

"I see," Joffrey nodded, cracking his neck as Elia came back to trot along beside them. "You trained her then?"

"It's why I have dried meat in most of my pockets," Lyra smiled at the thought. "Most of the maids hate it, as they always find it whilst doing my laundry."

"Did you never think to have it in a bag?" Lyra shook her head, as an inn came into view. 

"Pockets were simpler," He hummed, before looking at the inn.

"How's your brother?" Lyra thought for a moment, wondering if Bran had woken up.

"Well, he's alive and he made it through the night. Maester Luwin said that was a good sign," Joffrey nodded at that. "Did you pay him a visit, Your Grace?"

"I did not manage to, unfortunately," Lyra watched as his face went back to a blank stare, as if he was remembering something unpleasant. "I offered my prayers for his safe recovery."

"Well, that's more than enough sometimes," She decided not to press the matter further, even though she wanted to know why. He turned to look at her, giving Lyra a glimpse of his black eye, which had grown darker overnight. Joffrey nodded, after staring at her momentarily, before the caravan came to a halt at the inn where they would be staying for the night.

Joffrey jumped down first, tying his horse to the rail as Lyra stretched her legs, which had gone slightly numb from cramp. Leaning forward, Lyra swung her leg over the back of the saddle and dropped down to the floor. She stumbled forward and placed a hand on Joffrey's shoulder as she tried to regain her balance. 

The man tensed up beneath her tough, turning around like a startled deer before he relaxed at the sight of Lyra stretching her legs. Lyra froze, feeling eyes on her, before she glanced up at the prince.

"My apologies, Your Grace," She smiled at the tense man, relinquishing her grip on him. "I thought I was going to fall into the mud."

He nodded slowly, before the pair both began to un-tack their horses. Lyra heaved her saddle off of Blanche, throwing it over the rail before leading the horse to the stables near the back of the inn. Joffrey was in front of her, already backing his horse into the wooden structure, as Lyra quickly did the same. 

Joffrey held her stable door open, as Lyra slipped out and turned to face him. She smiled at the sun, that was warming her back.

"The sun's finally shining," Joffrey glanced up, before nodding. "We should go for a walk, if you're not needed for any princely duties, Your Grace."

"I doubt that I will be," Joffrey offered the woman his arm, before leading her off into the woods. There was a trail in the path, which the pair followed, as Elia made an appearance. She trotted along beside them, occasionally snapping her jaws at dandelion seeds that floated past in the wind.

"It's a lot warmer here than back at home," Lyra tried to make conversation, as Joffrey nodded.

"King's Landing's warmer," He glanced over at the rushing river to their left. "On especially hot days, the sea breeze is a blessing."

"I've never seen the sea before," Lyra mused, as Elia trotted back over, snorting dandelion seeds out of her nose. "What's it like?"

"Surprisingly cold," Joffrey took a deep breath. "From the Red Keep you can see the entire port below you and watch the ships go in and out. Tommen and I used to do that before my kingly studies began."

"Maybe one day, when you're free, we should go as well," Lyra tried to coax a smile out of the man, but as per normal, he only half-raised his lips in response.

"You're very different from any other lady that I've met," The prince mused, glancing down at her. Lyra smiled.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Joffrey nodded, before his eyebrows furrowed at the sound of sticks hitting one and other. He turned the bend, a hand resting on his own sword as he saw the youngest Stark daughter play fighting with a boy he had never seen before.

Arya froze, turning to see her older sister and the prince watching them. She smiled sheepishly, as Lyra laughed.

"Arya," The girl looked down, suddenly finding her feet incredibly interesting. "Could you not have waited until we arrived in King's Landing?"

"Sorry?" Arya didn't sound sorry in the slightest, but Lyra laughed and waved her off. 

"You should probably come to a stop before someone else comes along," Arya nodded, as Lyra hooked her arm through Joffrey's and continued back down the path. Joffrey's eyebrows furrowed as he looked back and forth between Lyra and her sister's shrinking form.

"You're allowing your sister to fight some boy from the inn?" Lyra looked up at his incredulous face and nodded.

"Arya is not like Sansa and I," Lyra said, grinning. "She prefers to fight and take part in archery competitions."

"But, what happens if she gets hurt?" Joffrey seemed annoyed that she was being so nonchalant about Arya's fighting.

"Then she'll learn from it," The prince opened his mouth to protest, as Lyra continued on. "If we told her not to do something, she would simply do it anyway and be more reckless about it. This way she's less likely to go looking for trouble."

Joffrey's eyebrows were still furrowed at the notion, before the pair turned to walk back again. Lyra closed her eyes, tilting her head back to let the sun's rays kiss her cheeks, before another sound crossed her ears.

Snapping her head up, Lyra looked back in the direction that they came, before a grimace appeared on her face and she groaned.

"Gods above," Joffrey looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. "They're arguing. We haven't even been here for an hour."

Joffrey followed Lyra back towards the clearing where Arya and the boy had been fighting. When Lyra reached it, she came upon the familiar sight of Sansa and Arya shouting at one and other, whilst the boy stood off to the side and watched it with wide eyes.

"Go home," The boy turned around at Lyra's words, before nodding and running off into the forest. The prince stood to the side, as Lyra stormed over to the two girls and looked between the both of them with one eyebrow raised.

"Lyra! Tell Sansa that I'm allowed to fight," Arya growled, glaring at her elder sister. Sansa's jaw dropped as she span around to look at Lyra.

"Tell Arya that she's supposed to be a lady," The prince raised an eyebrow at their childish bickering, as Elia slumped down by his feet.

"Girls!" Lyra snapped, as the younger sisters turned to look at her. "Stop this childish bickering, please. Go back to the inn and we will discuss this at another time."

Sansa nodded, as Arya growled and turned to storm off past Joffrey. Looking up, the prince grabbed Arya's arm to stop her from running.

"I think your sister said to go back to the inn," Arya glared and growled some more, trying to worm her way out of his grip. Joffrey seemed unaffected, as he gently lead her back towards her older sisters. 

"Get off me!" Arya shouted, as Joffrey released his hold on her. Lyra's eyes widened, as she saw a direwolf appearing from behind the prince.

"Elia!" Joffrey span around, as Arya's direwolf latched onto his arm, biting down hard. The prince cursed, as Elia finally made her appearance and grabbed the scuff on the smaller wolf's neck. Nymeria released the prince, as Lyra ran over to see how bad his wounds were.

"Your Grace," Joffrey glanced up, as Lyra took his hand away from his arm and checked it over.

"It's not broken," She looked at him, before turning back to face Sansa. Arya had already sprinted off into the woodland.

"Sansa. Go back to the inn, fetch father, tell him what happened and send him to us," Sansa nodded, before Lyra grabbed her arm. "Speak only to father."

Sansa ran back off in the direction of the inn, as Lyra pulled Joffrey's sleeve up over the cut on his forearm. Scars from sword fights littered his arms, along with other ones. They ranged in colour, from white to an angry red colour.

"Are you okay?" Joffrey's face looked like a blank slate, as if it had been wiped clean of all emotions. "How badly does it hurt?"

"It stings," Looking between the bite on Joffrey's arm and the man's guarded face, Lyra's eyebrows furrowed. She had been bitten by Elia on multiple occasions, and direwolf bites hurt. "It's not the worst that I've had."

Lyra turned as someone came crashing through the bush, watching her father appear in front of her. He hurried over to the pair, before gently examining Joffrey's wound.

"How bad is it?" Joffrey went to reply, before snapping his mouth shut as Lyra started to speak.

"Well, Nymeria didn't hold back," Lyra stated, holding Joffrey's sleeve up as the teenager continued to watch what was happening with a blank face.

"It probably just looks like it hurts because there's a lot of blood on it. It doesn't. This was my fault, not the wolf's," Lyra's father poured water over the top of it, washing the blood away so that the trio could examine it.

"Well, it's not broken," He looked up at the prince. "That's a good sign, Your Grace. But, we should still get back to the inn to clean it up and bind it."

"Of course," The prince allowed Lyra's father to lead him back towards the inn, as Lyra called for Elia and followed quickly.

✧✦✧

Stepping into the crowded room, Lyra kept a hand on Elia's scruff, as she maneuvered her way through the crowd to reach her sisters. Arya was trembling, as she quickly wrapped an arm around Lyra's waist, Sansa doing the same.

Looking up, Lyra caught eyes with Joffrey. He held the same guarded expression on his face, as he rested a hand on the hilt of his sword and watched the Stark sisters.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Arya sobbed into Lyra's arms, as the older girl continued to hush her. Looking at the faces of the king and queen, Lyra tried to decipher how this was going to play out and why they were here. She had thought that after Joffrey's wound was binded this would be the end of the matter, but one look at the queen's face had her thinking otherwise.

It seemed that, unlike Joffrey, Queen Cersei was not adept at hiding, or controlling her emotions. The pursed lips, narrowed eyes and slightly red cheeks gave away that she was frustrated. The king looked like he was drunk.

"You hurt?" Lyra turned at her father's voice, shaking her head as he checked each one of them to make sure they were alright.

"What is the meaning of this? Why was my daughter not brought to me at once?" Lyra was in awe of her father, as he stared down the king and queen of the country, not once flinching under their stares.

"How dare you speak to your king in that matter?" Cersei hissed, bringing a hand down onto Joffrey's shoulders. Lyra watched the teenager tense up, confusion coursing through her.

"Quiet, woman. Sorry, Ned, I never meant to frighten the girl. But we need to get this business done quickly," Robert stated, looking at the Starks apologetically.

"That animal of hers nearly tore his arm off," Cersei growled, as Joffrey looked down at the floor. It was like he had lost the ability to speak as soon as he was in his parent's precense.

"That's not true," Arya shouted, her eyes wide with indignation, before she paused. "She just bit him a little. She was trying to protect me that's all."

Lyra placed a hand on Arya's shoulder, squeezing gently. All three of the girls had been there, they knew what had happened.

"Enough!" Robert called, silencing Arya. "She tells me one thing, you tell me another. Seven hells, what am I to make of this? What happened? Lyra?"

Lyra glanced up, before recounting the story as it had happened and trying not to leave anything out. No one was in the wrong for this, it had just been a simple misunderstanding between them. Cersei did not look happy with her side of the story.

"Joffrey will bear these scars for the rest of his life," Lyra tilted her head as the stoic teenager still said nothing. Did he not want to speak up to help them?

"Tis just a bite," Robert waved the statement away, as Lyra tried to catch Joffrey's eyes. But he would not look up at her.

"What of the direwolf?" Cersei asked as Robert stood to dismiss the court. "What of the beast that savaged your son?"

"I forgot the damned wolf," Robert turned to talk to a guard standing behind him as Lyra pulled her own closer to her.

"We found no trace of the direwolf, Your Grace,"

"No, so be it," Robert began to walk out, as Lyra pulled Elia even closer to her and squeezed the other girl's shoulders.

"We have two more wolves," Cersei was staring at Elia, and Lyra looked up in panic.

"As you will," Joffrey looked up, finally meeting Lyra's panic filled eyes.

"You can't mean it," Sansa was looking between Lyra and the king, as both of them tried to work out what was going to happen.

"A direwolf's no pet. Get them a dog," Joffrey stepped off the dais towards his father, his face still guarded.

"Father, Elia protected me. She's well trained, let her live," Robert turned around, his face unreadable, as he looked his son up and down before conceding.

"Fine. But the other one goes," Robert left the room, as Lyra took a deep breath to control the panic that was welling inside her. Elia seemed to sense it, curling further around Lyra's feet, as Sansa looked up in horror.

"He doesn't mean Lady, does he?" Sansa asked, staring at her father and then back at Lyra. "No, no, not Lady. Lady didn't bite anyone. She's good!"

"Lady wasn't there," Arya called, as Cersei turned to the trio, a cruel smirk on her face.

"Father, please," Lyra turned to look at the eldest Stark, who was still staring at the king's back with disappointment.

"Is this your command?" The king turned to look at the Starks. "Your Grace."

Robert didn't reply, turning back around and storming from the room, as Sansa placed a hand over her mouth and buried her head into Lyra's shoulder.

"Where is the beast?" Cersei clapped her hands together, smiling at the Starks. Lyra had to hold herself back from glaring.

"Chained up outside, Your Grace. The other one's over there," The guard glared at Elia, who's tail was in between her legs.

"Ser Illyn, do me the honor," Cersei called, watching as the man walked towards Elia, drawing a dagger. Joffrey stepped in front of the man, pushing the dagger back.

"The king said that Elia was not to be harmed," Ser Illyn faltered, as he came face to face with the blond prince. The executioner looked between the queen and her son, before backing away once more.

"Jory, escort the girls to their rooms," Lyra turned away from the prince, as Jory Cassel, one of their father's most trusted guards, appeared at their side. "If it must be done, I will do it myself."

"Is this some trick?" Jory placed a hand on Lyra's shoulders, guiding the girl away. She smiled at him, as she placed a hand on the scruff of Elia's neck and lead Sansa out.

"The wolf is of the North, she deserves better than a butcher," Sansa started crying as they left the room, their father following them out. Lyra turned back one more time, to try and catch a glimpse of the blond prince, but he was no where to be found.

She didn't see him again for the remainder of the ride to King's Landing.

Hiya,

I actually love Joffrey and him standing up to people. Elia's a cutie as is Lyra and that's facts.

Thanks for reading,

Love Li xx