𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 | Unknowns

{ Lyra }

✧✦✧

𝕾unlight cast a golden glow over the steps to the Sept of Baelor, as the nobles bowed their heads in respect for the king and queen. Lyra huffed, resting a hand on her small bump as she cursed internally at the steps and the heat. Joffrey glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, squeezing her hand lightly as they reached the top of the steps. 

"Let us mourn in private," He murmured to the High Septon, as Lyra smiled briefly at Margaery. "Then, others may enter to pay their respects."

"Of course, Your Grace," The High Septon bowed, as the royal couple continued into the main hall of the sept, where Tywin Lannister's body lay.

"Thank the gods we have finished with those stairs," Lyra murmured, as Joffrey sent her a small smile. "My ankles were protesting all the way up."

"I'll have someone carry you down,"

"That would be appreciated," Lyra replied, shooting him another soft smile as she squeezed his arm. "Let's go and pay our respects and then leave."

"You do not enjoy paying your respects?" Joffrey asked, turning to look at her with raised eyebrows.

"We pay our respect to the dead when they are good and buried," Lyra muttered. "We don't parade their dead body around and leave it in a room with stones over their eyes. I just find it all..."

She trailed off, before making a hand gesture as Joffrey rolled his eyes.

"I see," She nodded her head, as Joffrey squeezed her hands. "What happens when I die?"

"I'll bury you and then pay my respects," She retorted, as Joffrey chuckled under his breath. "If I have to see your dead body, embalmed on a tombstone in the middle of statues so people can go around and touch you, I will simply leave."

"How romantic," Joffrey replied, shaking his head. "Thank you."

"You better bury me if I die first," Lyra muttered as they descended further into the steps. "If I find that you displayed my decaying body on a slab in this place then I shall come back and haunt you."

"Duly noted," Joffrey replied, before they finally came to the bottom of the Sept, where Tywin Lannister lay in his formal clothes, stones over his eyes and a sword resting on his chest.

The elder Lannisters were already in the hall, their faces sour and tension enveloped the two rulers. Joffrey coughed to alert his parents that they were there.

"Mother, Uncle," He muttered, as Lyra squeezed his hand again, watching the pair with narrowed eyes. Cersei sent them a stiff bow, before storming off from the Sept.

"Your Grace," Jaime greeted, gnawing on his lips as he drummed his fingers against his sword. Lyra watched him, before turning her eyes back to the body in front of her, which was pale and rigid with death.

All of this felt wrong to Lyra, who worshipped the Old Gods. They buried their dead out of respect, and the sight of a body on display for others to see was un-nerving for Lyra. It felt like a betrayal to her own gods.

"Uncle," Joffrey said, his face giving none of his emotions away as he stared at the body in front of him. "Do we have any knowledge of where Tyrion is?"

"Is now the time to talk about this?" Lyra muttered quietly. "There's a dead body in front of us."

"We have no new knowledge, Your Grace," Jaime ignored Lyra's words, his head bowed. Joffrey nodded, before pulling his arm from Lyra's grip to close his eyes and pray in front of the body. Lyra gnawed on her lips for a moment, before kneeling beside her husband to pray.

She might not have particularly liked Tywin Lannister, especially considering how the rest of Joffrey's family had turned out, but he had still been family and she would pray that his soul found rest in the afterlife. 

Her prayer was quick and short, as Lyra struggled to her feet and waited for her husband by the doors. She didn't know what he prayed for, or about, especially concerning his grandfather. They did not have the best of relationships, but maybe death had changed that. Lyra hoped it hadn't. Joffrey deserved better family than the one he had been shackled with.

"Done?" She looked up at her husband, who was holding an arm out for her again.

"Yes," Lyra leant on his arm, to press a quick kiss to the scar beneath his eyes, as Joffrey smiled down at her. "Shall we go?"

"Please," He nodded, before motioning for the doors to be opened. The sound of the crowd grew louder, sweeping over the pair like a wave. 

"They may enter," Joffrey murmured to the High Septon, who nodded his head. Lyra watched him still, her head tilted as they started down the stairs and towards a carriage that was waiting to take them back to the Red Keep. "You're staring."

"Admiring," Lyra replied, before squeezing his arm. "Are you sure that ever...Is that Lancel?"

"What?" Joffrey raised an eyebrow, as Lyra looked over his shoulder at the figure retreating into the shadows.

"By the gods, that's Lancel,"

"He's back at Casterly Rock," Joffrey spoke slowly, trying to recall from memory where the remainder of his family were. "He should not be back here."

"Well he is," Lyra replied, chewing on her lips. "You know, given our track record, I do believe that this is going to cause us some trouble."

"We're the king and queen," Joffrey pointed out, helping her into the carriage. "Everything causes us trouble. Careful."

"I'm alright,  Joff," Lyra replied, sitting down and resting a hand over the top of her belly, which had begun to swell with child. "We both are."

"Just..." He trailed off, sitting down beside her.

"I know," Reaching over, Lyra squeezed his hands, tracing her finger over his rings. "I know, Joff."

✧✦✧

"But, I thought Lancel was back in Casterly Rock after that incident with the Queen Mother," Margaery mused, as Lyra finished recounting her story.

"You heard of that?"

"Oh yes," Margaery nodded. "News of a Lannister stabbing another Lannister does travel fast. But, I thought he'd be trying to stay as far away from here as possible, especially with your mother-by-law being here still."

"We keep trying to send her back to Casterly Rock, but she refuses," Lyra sighed, rubbing her forehead as Arah placed a plate of sweet treats in front of them. "Thank you, Arah. Joff and I would be so much more comfortable if she left, but she still believes that her place is here."

"On the one hand, I can understand wanting to be around your children, even as they grow older," Margaery picked up her glass of wine. "But on the other hand, if you're not wanted, why stay?"

"When's your grandmother coming back to King's Landing?" Lyra picked up a lemon cake, her heart swelling. Lemon cakes were Sansa's favourite.

"I don't know. Hopefully soon, it's dreadfully boring when you are not around," Margaery replied, before placing her cup down. "Oh and you'll never guess what Loras has done?"

"I never know with him,"

"I found him sleeping with another man, a squire supposedly," Margaery kept her voice hushed. "He wasn't even trying to be discreet."

"Your gods have too many rules," Lyra replied. "That wouldn't be frowned upon in the North."

"I just want him to be more careful, but he won't listen to me. Is that so wrong of me to say that?" 

"Send him to my brother in the North," Lyra replied, chewing on another cake. "It would sort the whole problem out and he would not have to sneak around."

"Can we speak on your brother in the North or is that a taboo topic?" Margaery raised an eyebrow, but Lyra merely laughed.

"What can they do? Tell the king?" She rolled her eyes. "Is Joff very likely to behead me for talking about my brother?"

"You raise a good point," Margaery nodded. "How is he?"

"He and his wife had a baby boy," Lyra grinned at the thought, rubbing her own stomach. "So I now have a nephew, who I would very much like to meet when this all blows over."

"How sweet," Margaery replied. "I wish I had a nephew or niece. No, all of my brothers just give me problems instead."

"Well, hopefully you'll have a niece or nephew on your husband's side of the family then," Lyra grinned, drinking the water in front of her.

"Do you know something about my marriage status?"

"Not much," Lyra shook her head. "I know that there's something being drawn up with Prince Tommen but I haven't been to Small Council meetings in a few days so I only know what Joff tells me."

"Yes?"

"Cersei's been making a fuss about one of her other sons being married off," Lyra revealed, her tone barely above whisper. "She still has not yet got over Joffrey marrying a traitors daughter, from the North. Apparently, she asked Joff when he was going to get rid of the savage beast from the North. I don't know whether she speaks about me, or Elia."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she meant to say beasts," Margaery giggled, as Lyra hid a smile. "But enough of that tiresome topic, what are you hoping for?"

"What?"

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" Margaery asked, a smile growing on her face as she pointed at Lyra's stomach. 

"Margaery, I can't have favourites," The Tyrell woman raised an eyebrow. "Boy."

"Why?"

"There's multiple reasons," Lyra waved it off, going back to her drink. It might have been a simple question, but the fear of whether it would be a boy or a girl was something Lyra saw on Joffrey's face often.

She knew that he wished for the babe to be a girl. Lyra knew that it was because Joffrey felt far more comfortable with Myrcella than he did with Tommen, due to his parents pitting the two brothers against each other for most of their childhood. She also knew that, deep down, Joffrey was scared of scaring his son as his own fathers traumatised him.

But, Lyra knew that he'd be a great father. Joffrey just had yet to realize it.

Hiya,

First chapter of Book 5 and it's going to be fun. Next chapters coming up soon and honestly, I love Lyra and Margery's friendship and Joff and Lyra's relationship.

Let me know what you think,

Love Li xx