Wouldn't miss it for the world (Joffrey Baratheon)

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Finally!!! I'm updating again!! Hi! This is for queen-of-westeros. Soo sorry it took so long! But I hope you like it!

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He's dead. Nonononononono. He can't be here, he's dead. He died over a year ago. How is he here?! It just isn't possible!

"(Y/n), you must be weary of Joffrey. He is... not right." By the gods, this is the conversation we had the day before we left for King's Landing. This must be a dream.

"Then why is Sansa to marry him?"

I look over to the bed where the voice had come from to see a small, unafraid girl. Me. She seems so familiar, and yet, she's a total stranger.

"There was no choice in the matter. You cannot begin to imagine how badly I wish I could rid her of that burden." He pinches the bridge of his nose and begins to pace back and forth in front of my fireplace. His stance gives away his worry and I want nothing more than to run up and hug him like I should've on that day. But I don't. I simply promise to be careful and he nods, leaving me in the silent room with the girl that used to be me.

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I watched that girl fiddle about in her room for what felt like hours. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just as I remembered it, when suddenly, a high pitched scream rang through Winterfell, originating in the courtyard. Sansa. I bolt out the door and down the hallway, brushing past people who seem to not have heard the shriek. How could they not have heard her? Are they ignoring her?

These questions just keep running through my mind as I hurry to my sister's aid. But when I finally reach the door to the courtyard and slam through it, I understand entirely.

The scene before me is one that I wish I could erase from history. The day my father was killed. Looking around, I can see everything I remember in vivid detail. The mixed cries of the citizens, the guards trying to maintain control of the crowd, Sansa passed out on the stairs, even Joffrey's sickening sneer. A shiver runs down my spine at the sight of him and I feel a wicked stabbing sensation start up on my back, exactly where he had sliced me open after this whole ordeal. I endured weeks of torture, them asking where Arya went, me telling them I had no clue,and them further marring my skin, before I escaped. It's a miracle I survived, and even so I live in fear of them finding me everyday.

I look away from Joffrey in the hopes of escaping this all-encompassing fear, but when I look down, I see something far worse. Something new.

My father's head lies in front of me, his normally warm, kind eyes now cold and flat. There's blood pooling around my feet, the warm liquid seeping through the holes in my worn out boots. My stomach churns as a foul stench infiltrates my nostrils, the stench of death. That's when "reality" hits me.

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I wake up screaming, tears streaming down my face and chills running up and down my spine. As quickly as I can, I clamp my hand over my mouth, trying o stifle my yelling. But it's too late. Before I have time to react, four very large men have me picked up and are toting me to a cart.

"Guess we finally found you, little lady." The King's Guard. Oh Gods, no. I've been free for so long. They can't catch me now. I start to struggle against them, pulling and kicking and punching at my captors, but it's no use. They're much stronger than me and they've got a very good grip. "Now stop struggling. We've been ordered not to harm you."

"If she don' stop strugglin' she's gonna end up hurtin' herself." A different, larger man, the primary one restraining me, says. And he's right. I twist one more time and they lose their grip, leaving me tumbling to the ground, straight onto a rock. I hear a chuckled "Told you" then everything is black.

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