Note: Characters are the ages they were in the show. Joffrey is 15 and Sansa is 13 when they meet at Winterfell.

Prologue:

"No, please don't make me go! I-I promise, I'll be better from now on!" Joffrey's green eyes were wet with tears as he implored his parents one final time to change their minds.

His mother was crying as well and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry, sweetie, I'm so so sorry..." Cersei had fought tooth and nail to stop Robert from sending her darling boy away. She hadn't been successful, but at least she had managed a compromise: instead of being sent up to be raised by Eddard Stark and the rest of those dull-witted Northern savages as the King had wanted, Joffrey would go to Casterly Rock to live with her father, his only living grandparent, Lord Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West. It was far from a perfect situation, but at least he would be with family.

Robert looked at mother and son with an exasperated expression. "Alright, that's enough of that, both of you. Boy, I already told you, my mind's made up. You don't listen to me? Fine. But your grandfather won't be so easy on you, I'll tell you that. Tywin Lannister is not a man you want to anger; so by the Gods if you pull another stunt like the one with that poor cat under his watch…"

"That's enough, Robert!" Cersei glared at her husband, her eyes red from crying all morning.

Joffrey appeared stunned that for once all his complaining and tantrums didn't get him what he wanted in the end. His face looked positively betrayed as he stared wordlessly at his father, mouth agape.

Robert was unmoved. "Well, boy, it's time to go."

And so, with his sworn shield – Sandor Clegane, called "the Hound" – and accompanied by the Kingsguard, Joffrey rode into the west, to where his grandfather was Lord...

5 Years later…

The morning was cold and cloudy when Joffrey got his first sight of Winterfell; an ominous warning of the coming end of the long summer. He was among the first of the riders that filled the castle's courtyard as Baratheon and Lannister banners flew in the wind all around him. His expression was morose as he dismounted from his horse. He really had no desire to go north, especially not after he had just returned home for the first time in five years. His mother had been overjoyed to see him again and his brother and sister, who were so young when he left, were excited as well. They were the same age now as when he had left King's Landing for the first time. He almost felt bad for mercilessly tormenting Tommen and Myrcella all those years ago, especially considering the indifferent reactions he got from the rest of his family, including the father he so used to look up to.

Joffrey followed his father as he came up to greet Ned Stark. They both had big smiles on their faces and embraced each other like brothers.

"Nine years! Nine long years! Why haven't I seen you? Where the hells have you been?" Robert chided his old friend.

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours," Ned replied.

Robert grinned. "Cat!" He hugged her as well.

"Your Grace," Catelyn Stark replied with a smile.

Robert turned to Joffrey. "And this is my firstborn son, Joffrey," he said with somewhat less enthusiasm than he had displayed just a moment before.

"Lord and Lady Stark," Joffrey greeted politely. "It's an honor to finally meet you." Robert looked at him with some surprise.

"Likewise, my Prince," Ned said with a nod.

Catelyn nodded at her husband's words and continued to smile. "We thank you, Prince Joffrey. It is our utmost pleasure to have you here and we hope you had a pleasant journey north." Joffrey had to keep himself from rolling his eyes at that. As far as he could see, the North was nothing but a vast and gloomy and practically empty wasteland, but he managed to fake a grin in return.

The King continued down the line, paying his respects to each member of the Stark family with Joffrey following along. When they reached Ned Stark's eldest daughter, Sansa, Joffrey gave her a more genuine smile. She was really quite pretty and he knew that soon she was to be his betrothed. Her face reddened as she smiled back at him.

That night, a great feast was held in honor of the King. Joffrey and his siblings were seated with the Stark children, him between his two siblings and across from Sansa Stark. The smells of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filled the castle's great hall as a singer strummed a harp and sang sweet songs while a hundred drunken and cheerful conversations went on all around.

For what felt like a long while, Joffrey ate silently. He felt somewhat awkward. Sansa kept glancing at him as the meal went on, and Joffrey supposed he had better begin to get to know his bride to be sooner rather than later. He didn't have any idea what to say, though; he hadn't really had any contact with anyone his own age who was even remotely close to being a social equal in the past five years. Sighing, he finally began to open his mouth to say something when-

SPLAT!

"Arya!"

There was laughter from everyone sitting nearby as a piece of pie hit Sansa and slid down her face, ruining her dress. Joffrey couldn't help laughing a bit himself. At the sight of this, Sansa's face went red again and tears began to fill her eyes. "I hate you! You always ruin everything!" she screamed at her little sister who was still laughing uproariously.

Sansa ran from the hall as lady Catelyn at the head table signaled to her eldest son, Robb, who seemed amused at the situation.

"Alright, time for bed," Robb said, a smile still on his face as he picked Arya up and, ignoring her protests, took her out of the hall as well.

Joffrey sighed again and went back to his dessert.