𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 | Blood

{ 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.

Once it was smooth, Joffrey placed the brush down on the table in front of Lyra, before squeezing her shoulder gently and waiting for her to explain.

"What do I do now?" Lyra took a moment, before parting her hair slowly, as the teenager watched on, taking note of each strand that Lyra moved.

"These are braided separately and then joined together here," Lyra began, as Joffrey's cold hands took the hair from her hold. "To braid, you go..."

"I know how to braid," Joffrey murmured, as he quickly began to twist the hair and thread the strands around one and other. Lyra took a moment to process that, her eyebrows furrowing. "Hold that."

Lyra obliged, holding the braid in one hand, as Joffrey moved onto the other side of her head.

"How do you know how to do this?" Joffrey faltered momentarily, before continuing on with braiding her hair.

"When I was younger, Myrcella always like having her hair braided," Joffrey explained slowly. "But the maids were always too harsh with her hair, and mother was too busy to do it. So, I learnt how to do it for her. Each morning, she'd come into my room and I'd sit and brush and braid her hair for her. She thought my future wife would like it as well."

"Well, your sister was right," Lyra replied, feeling herself relax as Joffrey pulled the first braid from her fingers gently.

"I braided her hair everyday for nearly six years," Joffrey continued, as he held his hand out for a tie. Lyra passed one over, waiting for Joffrey to finish. "Then, my parents found out that I was the one braiding her hair. They were so annoyed that the future king was doing his younger sister's hair and they..."

He trailed off, as if he wasn't supposed to say something. Lyra's eyebrows furrowed, before Joffrey's hand fell from her shoulders and she turned to look up at the boy.

"I'm done," He cut her off before Lyra could even think about asking him her question, and reluctantly she backed away. He would tell her in time. Reaching up, Lyra ran her hand over the braids in her hair, smiling.

"Thank you, Joffrey," She smiled over at him, using his shoulder to lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. The boy sent her a half-smile, his eyes gleaming in the early morning light. "Now, let me please help you with your workload."

✧✦✧

A knock at the door caused Lyra to lift her head up in confusion. Glancing over at Joffrey, she raised an eyebrow but the teenager just shrugged in return and opened the door slowly.

"Can I help you?" Lyra watched the doorway, listening in to the conversation.

"Your Grace, is Lyra with you?" The Stark girl's head perked up at the sound of Arah's voice, watching as the door swung open and the woman appeared in the chambers. Joffrey looked surprised at the intrusion, but Arah paid him little heed. "My Lady, we need to get you changed."

Lyra nodded, sharing a look with Joffrey, before Arah lead her to the partition in the room, changing the girl from her nightgown into an actual dress and lacing it up in a record time.

"What's going on?" Lyra emerged again, as Arah continued to hurry her along. Joffrey watched it all happen with his usual half-smile, obviously taking amusement in Arah hurrying Lyra along.

"The Queen Regent is requesting to speak to you," Lyra fought from groaning as she waved goodbye to Joffrey, who was watching her leave with a raised eyebrow. "Your presence has already been noted as missing."

"All right," Lyra nodded, before they took a right as Tylar appeared, looking grim. "What's going on now?"

"It seems that Sansa is with her as well," Tylar murmured, shooting a glare at Ser Meryn Trant, who was coming from the opposite direction. The statement made Lyra speed up, as they made it to Cersei's chambers in a matter of minutes.

The door swung open and Lyra swept in to sit with her sister, who was pale and shaking slightly. Lyra dropped into a curtsy at the sight of the queen, before sitting down and reaching for her sister's hand in comfort.

"It's so nice of you to join us, Lyra," Cersei didn't sound impressed with her, as Lyra fought to keep the scowl from her face. "I was talking to Sansa about how she is now a woman and fit to carry out her womanly duties and be married, much like you are to be."

"Of course, Your Grace," Tylar was standing by the door, looking uncomfortable as they spoke. There was a moment of silence, before Cersei turned to look at Sansa.

"Why don't you go and rest, Little Dove? You seem pale," Lyra looked over at Tylar and nodded, as the man helped Sansa to her feet and led her from the room. "You have bled, haven't you?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Lyra fought not to shift in her seat uncomfortably.

"And you know what that means?" Lyra licked her lips, as the Queen Regent continued on regardless. "You are fit to bare heirs for the King. The greatest honor that a queen could ever dream of having."

Lyra nodded again, wondering if she would be able to leave the room before Cersei started to berate her for something or other. Unfortunately, Lyra did not think she was going to have such luck.

"Joffrey has always been difficult. Even his birth, I labored a day and a half to bring him into this world. You cannot imagine the pain. I screamed so loudly, I was sure Robert would hear me in the Kingswood," Lyra narrowed her eyebrows at Cersei's statement, licking her lips as she thought of what to do.

"His Grace was not with you?" Cersei nodded, waving her hand in dismissal of the question.

"Robert was hunting. That was his custom. Whenever my time was near, my royal husband would flee to the trees with his huntsmen and his hounds. And when he returned, he would present me with some pelts or a stag's head, and I would present him with a baby," She smiled at the thought, but it put Lyra even more on edge than before. What she would give to be back with Joffrey once more. "Not that I wanted him there, mind you. I had Grand Maester Pycelle, an army of midwives, and I had my brother. When they told Jaime he wasn't allowed in the birthing room, he smiled and asked which one of them proposed to keep him out. Joffrey will show you no such devotion."

The Stark girl fought to keep from saying anything. Joffrey might struggle to express his emotions properly, but the boy definitely cared about her well being and her thoughts. She doubted that he would go off hunting, should she be giving birth to his child, and it worried her how little Cersei seemed to know about her eldest son.

"You may never love the king, but you will love his children," Lyra remained silent, disliking the way that Cersei seemed to portray Joffrey as some form of monster. "Permit me to share some womanly wisdom with you. The more people you love, the weaker you are. You'll do things for them that you know you shouldn't do. You'll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe. Love no one but your children. On that front, a mother has no choice."

✧✦✧

Joffrey leant on the balcony, his hand threaded through Lyra's as she recounted what Cersei had told her, leaving certain bits out.

"I don't like how she talks about you," Lyra hissed, her eyes narrowing at the thought. Her blood was still boiling at Cersei's words, though Joffrey did not seem all that fussed about it.

"Mother has always been that way," Joffrey replied, tightening his grip on the girl's hand as Lyra began to rub her thumb along one of the scars. "It is nothing new."

"That might be the case, but it does not mean I have to like it," Lyra grumbled, before shaking her head and continuing on. "I also believe that he might try and place Sansa into a marriage."

"She can try, but again, it would have to be run past me and I can say no," Joffrey replied, shrugging his shoulders. "But, it shouldn't come to that, hopefully."

"Sansa must leave the capital, and be away from Cersei," Joffrey glanced down at his betrothed, who's lips were pursed in determination.

"If that's what you believe to be best, then I agree," He replied, as the girl leaned into his side once more. "We just need to be smart about how we manage that."

Hiya,

Joffrey is the cutest and him doing Lyra's hair brings me joy. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading.

Love Li xx