Author's Note: Re-posting all my old ASOIAF fic from my other account. This is embarrassingly old, it was written in 2009. More Westeros High School crack, though this time not from the RP.

-x-

Sansa didn't like PE at all. It was her least favourite class, for several reasons. It was tiresome and it made her all smelly and sweaty. She would have liked to pretend she was not feeling well. She could have skipped the lesson, and then she could have gone to watch the boys playing soccer.

But Arya always got better marks than her in PE. Sansa was much better in all of the other subjects, but every time they saw her grades her father or her mother would remind her that Arya still got an A in PE, while she had barely scraped a pass. So she couldn't afford to skip a single lesson.

With a small sigh she finished tying her shoelaces and stepped outside. The air was cold and damp, a true autumn morning. The rest of the girls were already outside. Margaery and her stupid friends were huddled together sharing some private joke. Some of the other girls were jumping up and down to warm themselves, and though her toes felt frozen she decided that jumping up and down would be childlish. Besides, Joffrey might see her.

And sure enough the boys appeared on the other side of the field. Her prince, so tall and with those beautiful golden hair, was unmistakeable among them. The only one taller than him was that scary coach, Clegane.

At one point it looked as if Joffrey had turned and said hi to her, so she smiled back.

"What are you smiling about?" hissed Jeyne next to her.

Sansa pouted. She'd ruined her golden moment. "Nothing," she replied.

"Did you hear that?" Jeyne asked.

"Yes, I did!" she replied happily. "He turned, and said..."

"He? What are you talking about?" Jeyne interrupted her sounding exasperated. "Tarth just said that we have to run ten laps around the courtyard! It will take forever!"

"Oh no," Sansa moaned.

Around her, the other girls had started running. Sansa and Jeyne followed at a slower trot. They exchanged a few words, but after the first lap Sansa was already out of breath and stopped replying. It annoyed her that Jeyne was more athletic than her.

She decided to concentrate on the soccer match that was taking place. If she turned her head just a bit to the side, like this, it would look as if she was looking at Jeyne while she actually had her eyes on Joffrey.

Her prince was confronting Jon Snow in the middle of the playing field right now. Snow had the ball, but then Joffrey took it from him and started running towards the goal. There was a whistle and Clegane stopped the game. Snow had fallen down, he was clutching his leg and screaming something. His teammates were shouting too, and pointing at Joffrey. She couldn't figure out what was happening, soccer was such an ugly sport anyway. She just hoped that Joffrey didn't get somehow injured.

"Poole, Stark. Four laps."

Tarth's dull voice distracted her. "Still six to go. Stark, don't slow down."

Feeling ashamed at having been reprimanded, Sansa lowered her head and concentrated on running.

-x-

"Hey," said Jeyne after a while. "Didn't you say you liked Joffrey?"

Sansa stiffened. Jeyne had a big mouth, it would be best to be careful or everyone would know before lunch break. "He is handsome," she conceded.

The other giggled.

"You're not the only one who thinks so," Jeyne said. "I heard that yesterday he went to the movies together with Margaery. Mina said that she saw them together. Kissing."

Sansa felt as if she'd just been knifed. "Oh," was all that she could manage, and not just because she was out of breath.

Her handsome prince! Him, going out with that little bitch. How could that be? But he'd said hi to her just that morning, she was sure he had. Margaery had been standing close to her right then...

Surely it was a mistake. That was the only reason. She was going to find Joffrey after class was over, and ask him.

Then everything happened at once.

Someone yelled "Watch out!", Jeyne cried out her name and something hit the side of her face very hard.

Now she was sprawled on her back and everyone was craning to have a look at her.

"Sansa, you're bleeding," Jeyne wailed from somewhere above her. She brought her hand to her nose and she felt it was covered with something hot and sticky. Her blood?

She focused on Ms Tarth, who looked deadly pale. "Nurse," she kept repeating. "Got to see the nurse now. Can you walk at all?"

She tried to nod, but she wasn't sure if she'd managed to. Her head felt so heavy.

Then someone picked her up bodily and carried her away to the infirmary.

My golden prince, she thought. He's come to save me. That story about him and Margaery was all a lie.

-x-

She woke up sometime later on a narrow bed, feeling a bit better. The infirmary was deserted, but she decided to lie down for a bit longer. She was still dizzy, but the memory of Joffrey carrying her here in his arms made her feel all warm inside. He must have been so worried! But when he'd come to ask how she was, she had to remember to say that she was feeling perfectly good and thank him properly.

She held her breath when she heard footsteps outside, but it was just Clegane.

"Are you all right, little girl?" he asked in his rough voice.

Sansa nodded, not meeting his eyes. His face was hideously scarred, as if it had been burned. Now it looked as if he was half-talking to himself, too.

"I told that boy that even if he kicks the ball more strongly, it won't work if he hasn't got any aim, but he won't listen. I just came to check. You seem fine. Then I'll be going, the nurse said you need to rest so you can skip next period too."

After he was gone, Sansa gave a sigh of relief. If was all his fault, him and his stupid soccer match!

The small mirror in her pocket hadn't broken, thankfully, so she tried to fix her hair a bit. Then she propped herself against the pillows and waited for Joffrey to come and ask how she was. However, he didn't come.