❝ 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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{ Joffrey }
✧✦✧
𝕵offrey stared at the messenger in front of him in shock for a few moments. It didn't quite register in his mind what the man had said for a few moments, before he stood from his throne and began to storm down the stairs.
"Your Grace." Rolan appeared on the other side of him, shaking his head as he looked around. "It's customary for you to wait for your wife here, in the throne room."
"I don't care what the customs are." Joffrey shook his head, daring the other man to argue. "My wife has just come back from over a year in the North and I just want to see her. Customs can go to hell."
"Of course, Your Grace." Rolan bowed, before Joffrey brushed past the man. He somehow managed to maintain a steady walk, until he was out of the view of the courtiers, before taking off in a rushed sprint to the main courtyard, dodging guards as he did. Every thought floating through his head was of Lyra and whether or not she was alright.
He took the steps down two at a time as he saw the head of the column coming into view. Joffrey could make out Elia and Lyra's horse, Blanche, before just about making out his wife on the mare's back, though they were still too far away to see clearly.
Brining his fingers to his lips, Joffrey whistled loudly. Elia perked up, before abandoning Lyra's side and sprinting for the man. She was barking, wagging her tail before she slammed into his body. Joffrey was unsure of how he remained standing from the force of the hit, kissing the wolf's head and scratching behind her ears as she whimpered and licked at his hands.
"How's my best girl?" Elia let out another muted bark, as Joffrey grinned and examined her. She didn't look injured, thankfully, but if she had been it would have likely already healed over. Glancing up, he watched as Lyra dropped from Blanche's back and handed her horse to a guard.
Not caring for what etiquette demanded, Lyra ran towards him. Joffrey opened his arms, allowing his wife to throw herself into them, much like her wolf had just done, before clinging onto her tightly. She was crying, Joffrey soon realised, her head buried into his neck as he smiled widely. Lyra was back. She was home and safe and with him once more.
"Hello, My Love." Joffrey muttered.
"I missed you so much." Her voice was choked and watery as she threaded her hand through his hair, tugging him closer though that was hardly possible.
"It's alright." Joffrey pressed a kiss to the side of her head, tightening his grip around her. "You're home. You're back with me."
"I don't think I can leave your side again." Lyra revealed, pulling away from him enough so that she could bring him down into a kiss. It tasted salty, from the tears on her face, but Joffrey did not care. His wife was back.
