Hello! Sorry for the short chapter this time- it was necessary for the transition. Expect next chapter soon! Please R&R! Thanks so much for all your support! (Disclaimer: I don't own the magically terrifying world that is Game of Thrones)
Sansa didn't know what was going on. This has to be a dream, she thought, yes, any moment now I'm going to wake up and see that none of this is real. She even blinked hard, trying desperately to shake herself out of whatever crazy spell she was enchanted by.
But when she opened her eyes again, Joffrey was still there, still frozen in place from shock. Immediately, the water succumbed to gravity and fell to the ground, splashing across the stone floor. The blue light he was radiating stopped, and the water in the palm of his hands ceased to glow.
The two simply stared at one another in utter disbelief for a good four minutes, too shocked to make a sound. When she finally did come out of her daze, Sansa turned to rush out of the room.
"No!" Joffrey screeched, and, as if by itself, the door slammed shut before Sansa could leave.
"You... You can't go! Y-you'll tell someone, and you can't tell anyone! No one, do you understand?!" He yelled, unconsciously advancing towards the terrified girl.
Sansa backed up in fear, unknowingly bumping into a table behind her and knocking over a platter of fruit. She fell the to ground, scared for her life as tears started to stream down her face. Joffrey could do anything he wanted to her- who knew what he was capable of? "P-please, m-m-my king, I-I won't tell another soul, ever, I swear to you!" She stuttered, looking up into the king's sea glass green eyes.
Joffrey pursed his lips momentarily, staring down at the terrified girl before him. A million thoughts flew through his mind, each one more horrible than the last. He hadn't meant to frighten the poor girl, and now, here she was, trembling before him. If she had just stayed in her chambers, none of this would have ever happened, he thought grimly, she'd never have seen me for the freak that I am.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" He snarled, turning away from her as he looked towards the sea out his window.
"I heard your cries of pain, my king, I could not bear to think of you suffering. I came to help." Sansa murmured quietly.
"Help?" Joffrey laughed bitterly, "In what kingdom does intruding on one's solar help?"
Sansa's voice hitched on a sob as she covered her face with her hands. She didn't know what to make of any of this- the king had magic, and she was the only witness. "I am sorry for the intrusion, your grace, I did not mean to offend you. It shall never happen again, I promise." She assured shakily.
Joffrey rubbed his hands together in worry, barely managing to keep his hysteria under wraps. The daughter of a noble, princess of the north had seen his deepest secret. She could tell everybody, he thought, mother would have me locked away forever to keep the crowds from tearing me apart and using my innards as dog food... Or worse...
Joffrey wasn't stupid- he knew the terrible fate that marked most sorcerers. People who had magic, whether they were born with it or not, were frowned upon in almost every corner of westeros and cast out for witchcraft. The idea of a king, and not just any king, the protector of the realm, having magic was so ludicrous that even the most stoic of knights would break out in laughter.
Oh, seven hells, why does this have to be so hard? Joffrey thought frantically as he paced the room, why did she have to be the daughter of the north instead of some peasant girl I could kill and forget about? He certainly couldn't kill Sansa- that would raise too much suspicion. Besides, a little voice called out in his head, she's just a stupid, innocent girl. You can't kill an innocent girl. Not even you are that heartless. Joffrey finally stopped pacing, turning towards the crying Stark girl. He took a deep breath in a foolish attempt to steady himself as he cleared his throat.
"Lady Sansa... I do... Apologize, if I have frightened you," he began, and at those words the red headed girl looked up in surprise, "I cannot control my... My..." He struggled to say the word.
"Magic?" Sansa asked flatly, not quite believing her own interjection.
Joffrey nodded curtly. "Yes, that. No one knows of my curse and no one can ever find out. It would be the end of you, and it would be the end of me. It would be the destruction of everything we hold dear. If we both swear to never speak of this to anyone, I think we can avoid a terrible fate. Do you agree?"
Sansa nodded vigorously, and Joffrey stared into her eyes for the first time to make sure she wasn't lying. There was no trace of malice in those icy grey orbs, only fear and the desire to put this all behind them.
"... Good. Th-that's good." Joffrey said shakily, breathing finally beginning to even out. "You may go now."
Sansa jumped up to leave, rushing to the exit when she stopped herself at the door. The words left her mouth before she could stop them. "I don't think it's a curse. I think it's beautiful."
Joffrey paused, looking up at her slowly as if to make sure he heard her right. No one had ever said anything he'd ever possessed or done was beautiful. The words felt strange to him, like a pair of brand new boots on his feet. If only they were true. "Well," he swallowed thickly, "then you're a foolish girl who knows not what she speaks."
He heard the quick patter of shoes signaling that she had disappeared down the hall. As soon as she was out of earshot, he allowed himself to fall into a panic. Someone had seen him. For the first time in twelve bloody years, someone had seen him! And not just that, what did any of this mean? Was he going crazy? Why did the unbearable pain cause him to lose control? Normally, Joffrey knew how to keep his magic under wraps. It was second nature to him; it was hard to describe in words how he managed to hide his abilities from the world, but the idea of losing that control was beyond terrifying. If mother were to find out, she'd never leave me alone again! He thought anxiously. No, this will never get out, I think I've scared the Stark girl sufficiently. No one will ever know, and all will be as it was.
He tried to calm himself in some small manner, tried to steady his breathing as he shakily got into bed. Maybe this is all one big dream, he made to assure himself, maybe the pressure of the throne is getting to me.
But as he looked out from under the heavy woolen covers of his bed, he caught sight of the broken windows where the water rushed in, the pitcher lying on its side, and the fruit strewn about the floor from when the table tipped over. It was certainly real, and Sansa was the only witness. He knew he would never be able to look at the girl the same way again, knowing that she knew of his curse. And as he drifted into a restless sleep, he was saddened by this; for no one had ever called his magic beautiful before. And the words, foreign as they were, brought him a kind of solace he'd never felt anything quite like.