Fic: Visions
Written for the throneland Character Swap Challenge: I chose to swap the personalities and traits of Joffrey and Sansa.
We were also supposed to write an essay describing each of our characters. I also wrote a fic.
CHARACTER ESSAY:
Prince Joffrey Baratheon - Prince Joffrey is not an unkind young man. In fact, when he is not daydreaming about being a gallant king, like the fabled rulers of ancient yore, giving chaste comfort to the scores of lovely swooning damsels in distress seeking his protection, and patronage to the most noble knights in the land, Joffrey thanks his tutors for their patience, even though he could care less about their boring histories of mad kings and ruthless nobles. He hates hearing about all the battles, the killing and the blood. None of those evils will ever happen during his rule, and it gives him a headache just to think about it.
Tywin's warnings that the prince must learn how to be a true king, and to develop hard-headed common sense when it comes to ruling a fractious court teeming with lords greedy for power, fall on deaf ears. Joffrey is equally impatient with his mother's constant fretting about his tendency to become chastely infatuated with every lovely young woman he meets. He never argues with his mother. Women are to be worshipped and protected.
Both Queen Cersei and Tywin worry about Joffrey's stubborn refusal to see at the world as it really is. They fear that this tendency will only lead to disaster when he becomes king. Choosing the right queen for him is of paramount importance.
Being a prince has many advantages, not the least of which is having access to an unlimited wardrobe. Joffrey has never worn the same tunic or set of leggings twice, and prides himself on being a fashion trend-setter among the lords and ladies at Kings Landing. Joffrey can spend hours in his chambers just deciding what he's going to wear for an afternoon's audience with a humble petitioner, not to mention the ordeal of having to choose his adornment for a formal reception. He's especially fond of his good looks and golden hair. He's handsome and knows it, and is proud that he takes after his mother's side of the family when it comes to appearance.
Joffrey's Uncle Jaime is his hero, the epitome of everything a knight should be, and while he doesn't revile his Uncle Tyrion like his mother does, Tyrion's constant ridicule of Joffrey's obsession with his looks, and his daydreams of a gallantry of days long gone which Tyrion claims never existed, sting the young prince. He is sure that Tyrion is wrong.
What Joffrey desires most is a lady of his own. A gentle, loving queen even more beautiful than his mother. A queen he will always treat with the utmost kindness and respect, and who will worship him in return. At every tournament, Joffrey will make sure that his wife will be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty. He will shower her with devotion, and, unlike his father, will never look to other women for comfort, or raise his hand or voice against her.
The woman who marries King Joffrey will want for nothing. She will always have the finest clothing, the most precious jewels, and her husband's complete adoration.
Lady Sansa Stark - Sansa, spoiled shamelessly by her parents, especially her mother, can't wait to become queen and leave cold dreary Winterfell behind forever. For the life of her, she can't understand why her father loves it so much.
Sansa's very first sentences, spoken at the age of eighteen months, were "it's mine" and "give it to me." As she grew older, Sansa stopped asking, and just started grabbing whatever she wanted from her siblings - always behind her parent's back, of course. Her younger brothers are terrified of her, and do their best to stay out of her reach. Her sister Arya is even a little intimidated by Sansa, although she tries to hide it with verbal jabs.
Sansa's direwolf, Empress, is a lupine reflection of her mistress's personality; snapping, snarling and snatching the choicest hanks of meat from her littermates, having established her dominance over the pack from the day the Starks took the direwolf pups under their protection.
Sansa will soon be married to Prince Joffrey, and will one day rule at his side over all Westeros. She's determined to have the finest palace and court in the history of the kingdom, and is already making plans for building new palaces and importing the best that money can buy to decorate them. If the coffers run dry of coin, then the peasants of Westeros will just have to pay more taxes.
Sansa will also raise her family to new heights of power and influence once she arrives at Kings Landing. Robb shall be made Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Even Arya, Bran and Rickon will have lands and titles beyond imagining. Sansa might despise her siblings - except for Robb - but they are still her blood.
Jon will have to fend for himself.
From what Sansa has learned, Prince Joffrey will be putty in her hands, with his head always full of silly ideas. Queen Cersei dotes on her eldest son and wants him to be happy. Sansa will make sure that Cersei understands that making Sansa happy is the best way to make Joffrey happy. Besides, if Cersei causes too much trouble, there are ways, Sansa has heard, to get rid of an inconvenient mother-in-law. Somehow, she doubts that King Robert would care if Cersei were to one day have an unfortunate 'accident', and if rumor holds true, he would be likely to give Sansa a free hand.
Joffrey might one day be King of Westeros in name, but Sansa will be ruler in fact.
Of that, she is sure.
Fic: Visions
Iron-clad hooves clattered over the stone of the Winterfell courtyard as the Baratheon-Lannister retinue arrived. It was bitterly cold, the chill in the air as keen as a shard of ice. The lathered horses were panting with fatigue, their harness lined with the frost of condensed sweat.
But at that moment, Joffrey had forgotten the exhaustion of the long day of traveling. He had even forgotten how to breathe.
There she stood, alongside the other members of her family. A tall slender vision clad in a soft woolen cloak the color of the sunlit sky, her auburn hair tumbling about her shoulders.
Sansa Stark - his future wife and queen.
Joffrey was only dimly aware of his father sliding clumsily down from his stallion to greet Lord Eddard Stark. But they were all as insubstantial as ghosts to him. He must have dismounted himself at some point, because he found himself approaching this vision of beauty with awe.
Everything and everyone around him seemed to disappear.
There was only Sansa. More lovely, more graceful, more noble, than he had dared to imagine. All of his wishful dreams had come true.
Joffrey had just caught her gaze for a brief moment before she demurely lowered her lids and sank into a deep curtsey before her prince and future husband.
At that moment he was the happiest young man in Westeros.
+++
Sansa almost groaned in disappointment, before remembering her usual impeccable manners and tilted her head in repectful deference. Her parents had assured her that Prince Joffrey was handsome, and she supposed that he was somewhat attractive, in a baby-faced, weak chinned sort of way. But he was so spindly. He looked like he would be easily blown away by a slight gust of wintery air.
And why couldn't he wipe that stupid dumb-struck expression off his face? You would think that a prince would have more dignity.
If only Joffrey were half as attractive as his Uncle Jaime, whose mount now galloped into the yard, pulling up short alongside the carriage which must house Queen Cersei. If only anything about Joffrey, except the color of his hair, looked like Jaime.
But - no matter. Joffrey's value to Sansa was his future kingship, not his person. He would one day sit upon the throne, and Jaime never would. That was the important thing.
The young prince approached Sansa with diffidence, honoring her with his deepest bow. "My Lady," he managed through lips stiff with cold and fear. "I have....you are the most...I am so..." He seemed incapable of expressing a coherent sentence.
Was he an imbecile as well as a weakling? Sansa thought with faint distaste, hoping he couldn't read the growing contempt in her eyes, realizing that the burden of any conversation would have to fall to her. "Welcome to Winterfell, your Highness. We have prepared a great feast in your honor, and have invited the finest musicians for your entertainment."
"Being in your gracious presence is all the entertainment I will ever require," Joffrey had finally managed to utter a complete phrase, his face reddening with either the cold or the effort of speaking to her. Sansa couldn't really tell.
"Come with me then." She reached out a gloved hand in invitation. " Let me show you my home."
Joffrey responded tentatively, just grasping the very tips of her fingers lightly, as if fearful of crushing them. Sansa was finding it more difficult by the minute to hide her scorn at his timidity. As much as she wanted, needed, a prince and a king she could control, it would have been a nice bonus if he actually had the makings of a man, and not a scared little boy.
A man like his brother.
Sansa felt her gaze drawn once again to Jaimie, who was even now helping a regally clad woman out of the carriage. Over Jaime's shoulder, Sansa caught a glimpse of a fur-lined cloak, of long golden hair. Then the queen's brother stepped aside, revealing Cersei to scrutiny.
The queen was very beautiful, true. But with the right clothes and jewels, Sansa could more than match her. And the younger woman has two invaluable advantages. The queen, having already borne three children, would never again have the fresh glow of youth, But even more importantly, she did not have the loving regard of her husband. The one thing that Sansa, under the worshipful protection of Prince Joffrey, already knew she would possess forever.
In Joffrey, Sansa had soft clay to work with. She could bend the prince to her will with ease, while Cersei would always, in the time she had left, be forced to deal with a husband who hated her.
As the eyes of the two women met in mutual suspicion and dislike, well-disguised by courtly etiquette, Sansa suddely had a clear vision of her future. In the battle of wills between queen and queen-to-be, Sansa would emerge victorious, even more ruthless and manipulative than the rival who stood before her.
In exchange for that power, Sansa could easily endure her future husband's fawning adoration.
It was a very small price to pay.
We were also supposed to write an essay describing each of our characters. I also wrote a fic.
CHARACTER ESSAY:
Prince Joffrey Baratheon - Prince Joffrey is not an unkind young man. In fact, when he is not daydreaming about being a gallant king, like the fabled rulers of ancient yore, giving chaste comfort to the scores of lovely swooning damsels in distress seeking his protection, and patronage to the most noble knights in the land, Joffrey thanks his tutors for their patience, even though he could care less about their boring histories of mad kings and ruthless nobles. He hates hearing about all the battles, the killing and the blood. None of those evils will ever happen during his rule, and it gives him a headache just to think about it.
Tywin's warnings that the prince must learn how to be a true king, and to develop hard-headed common sense when it comes to ruling a fractious court teeming with lords greedy for power, fall on deaf ears. Joffrey is equally impatient with his mother's constant fretting about his tendency to become chastely infatuated with every lovely young woman he meets. He never argues with his mother. Women are to be worshipped and protected.
Both Queen Cersei and Tywin worry about Joffrey's stubborn refusal to see at the world as it really is. They fear that this tendency will only lead to disaster when he becomes king. Choosing the right queen for him is of paramount importance.
Being a prince has many advantages, not the least of which is having access to an unlimited wardrobe. Joffrey has never worn the same tunic or set of leggings twice, and prides himself on being a fashion trend-setter among the lords and ladies at Kings Landing. Joffrey can spend hours in his chambers just deciding what he's going to wear for an afternoon's audience with a humble petitioner, not to mention the ordeal of having to choose his adornment for a formal reception. He's especially fond of his good looks and golden hair. He's handsome and knows it, and is proud that he takes after his mother's side of the family when it comes to appearance.
Joffrey's Uncle Jaime is his hero, the epitome of everything a knight should be, and while he doesn't revile his Uncle Tyrion like his mother does, Tyrion's constant ridicule of Joffrey's obsession with his looks, and his daydreams of a gallantry of days long gone which Tyrion claims never existed, sting the young prince. He is sure that Tyrion is wrong.
What Joffrey desires most is a lady of his own. A gentle, loving queen even more beautiful than his mother. A queen he will always treat with the utmost kindness and respect, and who will worship him in return. At every tournament, Joffrey will make sure that his wife will be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty. He will shower her with devotion, and, unlike his father, will never look to other women for comfort, or raise his hand or voice against her.
The woman who marries King Joffrey will want for nothing. She will always have the finest clothing, the most precious jewels, and her husband's complete adoration.
Lady Sansa Stark - Sansa, spoiled shamelessly by her parents, especially her mother, can't wait to become queen and leave cold dreary Winterfell behind forever. For the life of her, she can't understand why her father loves it so much.
Sansa's very first sentences, spoken at the age of eighteen months, were "it's mine" and "give it to me." As she grew older, Sansa stopped asking, and just started grabbing whatever she wanted from her siblings - always behind her parent's back, of course. Her younger brothers are terrified of her, and do their best to stay out of her reach. Her sister Arya is even a little intimidated by Sansa, although she tries to hide it with verbal jabs.
Sansa's direwolf, Empress, is a lupine reflection of her mistress's personality; snapping, snarling and snatching the choicest hanks of meat from her littermates, having established her dominance over the pack from the day the Starks took the direwolf pups under their protection.
Sansa will soon be married to Prince Joffrey, and will one day rule at his side over all Westeros. She's determined to have the finest palace and court in the history of the kingdom, and is already making plans for building new palaces and importing the best that money can buy to decorate them. If the coffers run dry of coin, then the peasants of Westeros will just have to pay more taxes.
Sansa will also raise her family to new heights of power and influence once she arrives at Kings Landing. Robb shall be made Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Even Arya, Bran and Rickon will have lands and titles beyond imagining. Sansa might despise her siblings - except for Robb - but they are still her blood.
Jon will have to fend for himself.
From what Sansa has learned, Prince Joffrey will be putty in her hands, with his head always full of silly ideas. Queen Cersei dotes on her eldest son and wants him to be happy. Sansa will make sure that Cersei understands that making Sansa happy is the best way to make Joffrey happy. Besides, if Cersei causes too much trouble, there are ways, Sansa has heard, to get rid of an inconvenient mother-in-law. Somehow, she doubts that King Robert would care if Cersei were to one day have an unfortunate 'accident', and if rumor holds true, he would be likely to give Sansa a free hand.
Joffrey might one day be King of Westeros in name, but Sansa will be ruler in fact.
Of that, she is sure.
Fic: Visions
Iron-clad hooves clattered over the stone of the Winterfell courtyard as the Baratheon-Lannister retinue arrived. It was bitterly cold, the chill in the air as keen as a shard of ice. The lathered horses were panting with fatigue, their harness lined with the frost of condensed sweat.
But at that moment, Joffrey had forgotten the exhaustion of the long day of traveling. He had even forgotten how to breathe.
There she stood, alongside the other members of her family. A tall slender vision clad in a soft woolen cloak the color of the sunlit sky, her auburn hair tumbling about her shoulders.
Sansa Stark - his future wife and queen.
Joffrey was only dimly aware of his father sliding clumsily down from his stallion to greet Lord Eddard Stark. But they were all as insubstantial as ghosts to him. He must have dismounted himself at some point, because he found himself approaching this vision of beauty with awe.
Everything and everyone around him seemed to disappear.
There was only Sansa. More lovely, more graceful, more noble, than he had dared to imagine. All of his wishful dreams had come true.
Joffrey had just caught her gaze for a brief moment before she demurely lowered her lids and sank into a deep curtsey before her prince and future husband.
At that moment he was the happiest young man in Westeros.
+++
Sansa almost groaned in disappointment, before remembering her usual impeccable manners and tilted her head in repectful deference. Her parents had assured her that Prince Joffrey was handsome, and she supposed that he was somewhat attractive, in a baby-faced, weak chinned sort of way. But he was so spindly. He looked like he would be easily blown away by a slight gust of wintery air.
And why couldn't he wipe that stupid dumb-struck expression off his face? You would think that a prince would have more dignity.
If only Joffrey were half as attractive as his Uncle Jaime, whose mount now galloped into the yard, pulling up short alongside the carriage which must house Queen Cersei. If only anything about Joffrey, except the color of his hair, looked like Jaime.
But - no matter. Joffrey's value to Sansa was his future kingship, not his person. He would one day sit upon the throne, and Jaime never would. That was the important thing.
The young prince approached Sansa with diffidence, honoring her with his deepest bow. "My Lady," he managed through lips stiff with cold and fear. "I have....you are the most...I am so..." He seemed incapable of expressing a coherent sentence.
Was he an imbecile as well as a weakling? Sansa thought with faint distaste, hoping he couldn't read the growing contempt in her eyes, realizing that the burden of any conversation would have to fall to her. "Welcome to Winterfell, your Highness. We have prepared a great feast in your honor, and have invited the finest musicians for your entertainment."
"Being in your gracious presence is all the entertainment I will ever require," Joffrey had finally managed to utter a complete phrase, his face reddening with either the cold or the effort of speaking to her. Sansa couldn't really tell.
"Come with me then." She reached out a gloved hand in invitation. " Let me show you my home."
Joffrey responded tentatively, just grasping the very tips of her fingers lightly, as if fearful of crushing them. Sansa was finding it more difficult by the minute to hide her scorn at his timidity. As much as she wanted, needed, a prince and a king she could control, it would have been a nice bonus if he actually had the makings of a man, and not a scared little boy.
A man like his brother.
Sansa felt her gaze drawn once again to Jaimie, who was even now helping a regally clad woman out of the carriage. Over Jaime's shoulder, Sansa caught a glimpse of a fur-lined cloak, of long golden hair. Then the queen's brother stepped aside, revealing Cersei to scrutiny.
The queen was very beautiful, true. But with the right clothes and jewels, Sansa could more than match her. And the younger woman has two invaluable advantages. The queen, having already borne three children, would never again have the fresh glow of youth, But even more importantly, she did not have the loving regard of her husband. The one thing that Sansa, under the worshipful protection of Prince Joffrey, already knew she would possess forever.
In Joffrey, Sansa had soft clay to work with. She could bend the prince to her will with ease, while Cersei would always, in the time she had left, be forced to deal with a husband who hated her.
As the eyes of the two women met in mutual suspicion and dislike, well-disguised by courtly etiquette, Sansa suddely had a clear vision of her future. In the battle of wills between queen and queen-to-be, Sansa would emerge victorious, even more ruthless and manipulative than the rival who stood before her.
In exchange for that power, Sansa could easily endure her future husband's fawning adoration.
It was a very small price to pay.