𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄 | Tombs

{Lyra}

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𝕷yra was unsure of how she was going to do this.

The door in front of her looked like a looming pit of darkness, and she tensed as she stood in front of it. Behind her, Tylar and Arah shared a look, both of them holding onto the royal children as Rolan approached Lyra's side cautiously.

"Your Grace." Lyra turned her head, as Rolan sent her a sad look. 

"I don't know if I can do this." Lyra whispered, trying not to let others hear how her voice cracked. Rolan nodded, smiling sadly. "Is he...Does he look...?"

"He looks like he's sleeping, Your Grace." Rolan sent her a smile. "He looks peaceful."

Lyra took a deep breath, letting it out shakily, before smoothing out her black dress and taking tentative steps into the room. The dark swallowed her, and she almost ran back out, but she continued on as she saw the fires from the braziers. Emerging from the corridor, Lyra stopped in the doorway, resting a hand against the door frame as she closed her eyes.

The antechamber was quiet and the only other person in there was the body on the plinth. Lyra shook her head, hating her husband's religion even more at this point, as it demanded that he be kept on a plinth so that the courtiers and other viewers could pay their respect. Lyra despised it. Drew had been buried in a style similar to the Old Gods, in the forest of the Red Keep, but Joffrey was part of the New Gods so that couldn't happen. 

Taking another shaky step closer, Lyra came to a stop by her husband's body as more tears formed in her eyes. Joffrey was dressed in a dark tunic stitched with gold, much like the one he wore at their wedding, and breeches. His boots were polished to perfection, and his blond hair had be cleaned so that it looked like gold once more. Over his eyes were two stones, painted with blue eyes, and they'd done their best to cover all the wounds on his body. 

Rolan had been right. Joffrey looked like he was asleep.

His sword was in his hands, pointed down, the lion handle glimmering in the fire, and his crown above his head. Lyra's own crown felt like a chain, reminding her that she had lived and Joffrey had died.

"Joff..." Lyra trailed off, a lone tear slipping down her face as she knelt beside his body, letting her head fall forwards. "I don't think that I can do this without you. I know that I cannot. Please."

She knew that it was a useless plea, as her husband was already well and truly dead. Rolan had made the decision to have him embalmed, as Lyra had been in an unresponsive state for days after the incident. She'd only left her bed for her children, keeping them close and protecting them.

Lyra's heart ached when there was no response. She wanted nothing more than to hear him call her My Love, or to see his smile or hear his laughter. She wanted him to hug her and press a kiss to her head and remind her that everything was alright. She just wanted him.

"Please, come back to me." There was no response, as Lyra looked up at the plinth and her husband's cold body. She took a deep breath, brushing away her tears, before forcing herself to her feet to look down at her husband's face. She knew that this was the last time that she would see him.

In a day, he'd be buried beneath the Keep with his brother.

"I love you." She whispered, reaching out to run her finger along the scar on his cheek. His skin wasn't warm like usual, and the thought made Lyra tear up again but she fought it down. "I love you so much."

Leaning down, Lyra pressed a kiss to his cold lips, before standing back up and shaking her head. She could only hope that he was beside her now, guiding her until she could join him in death. 

Brushing her tears away, Lyra took another deep breath, before smoothing her dress out once more. She couldn't afford to look weak now, no matter how deeply in grief she was. Until Mikael turned eighteen, Lyra would be ruling the country. 

Straightening her crown, Lyra sent one last look at her husband, before turning back to the corridor. 

"Mikael!" There was a pause, before feet padded against the ground, and Mikael came rushing to her side. Lyra felt a pang in her heart as she watched the boy, who looked so much like his father, but fought it down and smiled gently. "Little Lion."

"Mama." Mikael leant into her leg, as Lyra ran her fingers through his hair. Lyra hated that she had to do this, but she wanted Mikael to be able to say goodbye to his father. "What's Da doing?"

"He's sleeping." Lyra crouched beside him, pressing a kiss to his head. "He's gone to be with the gods."

"Why?"

"Because it was his time." Elia came padding in, curling around Lyra's back and staring up at the plinth with sad eyes. "You've got to say goodbye, Mikael."

"Goodbye Da." Mikael motioned to be lifted up, and Lyra managed with some difficulty. He would soon be too big for her to do this. "What will Da do with the gods?"

"Watch over us." Lyra leant her head against her son's, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Keep you and your siblings safe."

"Da was good at that." Lyra nodded, before turning away from the body. 

"When you're older, you'll be able to wear his crown and wield his sword."

"I will?"

"Yes." Lyra nodded at her son, taking off down the dark corridor. She spared one final glance at her husband's body, which seemed to be surrounded by a halo of light. 

"I'd like that." Mikael muttered, burying his head further into his mother's neck. "I'll be a good king, like Da was."

"You will be." As she emerged, she nodded at Rolan to allow the other courtiers in, before setting Mikael onto the floor and taking her twins from Tylar and Arah's arms. The one and a half year olds were getting fussy, but settled as their mother held onto them. 

Margaery, the elder of the two, had the same darker hair of the Starks, but with her father's eyes. She was huffing, her nose crinkling as she clung to her mother's sleeve, dressed in a similar dark dress. Tommas, looked just like his father, as Mikael did, but with the grey eyes of the Starks instead. He wasn't as fussy as his sister, watching across the court with curious eyes.

Lyra took a deep breath, walking away from the room as Mikael and Elia led the way to her chambers. 

"Your Grace." Rolan appeared by her side. He'd been helping her work out what she had to do, having once been her husband's aid. "There's a guest for you in the Throne Room."

"Who?"

"I think you might like to see for yourself." Rolan smiled, as Lyra nodded and strode off towards the main room, Arah and Tylar following along behind. As they drew closer, Lyra motioned for the guards to open the doors. 

"Your Grace." Arah stepped forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want us to take Margaery and Tommas back?"

"No." Lyra shook her head, pulling her children closer to her. "I just...I need them close to me right now."

"Of course." Arah rubbed her back as Tylar stepped into the Throne room first. He froze, before turning to look back at Lyra. The woman's eyebrows furrowed, before she followed after Tylar and also paused.

"Lyra." The woman in the throne room could have only been a few years younger than her, pale blonde hair pulled back into an intricate braid. On her hip sat a smaller sword, a frown on her face. Her eyes were rimmed with red and it took Lyra a few moments to work out who she was.

"Myrcella." The princess smiled sadly, before stepping forward. "I'm so sorry."

"So am I." Myrcella shook her head, as she reached the older girl. "I heard and came as soon as I could. Dorne sends their deepest sorrows for your loss."

"Thank you." Lyra sent her a shaky smile. "I'm so sorry that you lost your brother as well."

Myrcella nodded, before looking at the twins in Lyra's arms, and Mikael who was holding onto her leg.

"They look like Joffrey." Myrcella crouched down, holding her hand out for Mikael. "I'm Myrcella. I'm your aunt."

Mikael shot his mother a look, who nodded gently, before unlatching from her leg, and shaking Myrcella's hand. As he did, he began to smile, sending her a warm grin.

"Oh, he's got Joffrey's smile." 

"Yes. He looks just like his father, without the scar." Lyra pulled her children closer, sadness wreathing her heart. "How long are you here for?"

"As long as you'll have me." Myrcella ruffled Mikael's hair, before standing up. "If you need me here, then I will stay. You're family, the last I have left it would seem, and I'd like to stay with you and my niece and nephews."

"Stay as long as you like." Lyra replied, smiling gently. "I'd be glad to have you here as well."

Hiya, 

So this book has two chapters left after this one, one of those being an Epilogue, and then it's going onto Gloria, Angela and Ophelia updates which I'm super excited for. Uh, please ignore all earlier comments that are in this chapter, cause in the old version, Joffrey was gonna live. But I changed it so.

Let me know what you think,

Love Li xx