This starts out at the beggining of 2.10 (season two, episode ten) when Petyr talks to Sansa right after Joffrey and Margaery are engaged, but things don't go as planned.

A/N: This is something that just transpired out of no where, really. I want to explore Joffrey's character a bit more and I might perhaps, go a little out of character in the sense that Joffrey might not be so cruel...Tell me what you think :)

Sansa knew she should be feeling anger, humiliation, and rejection, yet she felt nothing but relief, a feeling that had deserted her since the day she set foot in King's Landing, despite having been filled with joy and wonder. Just the mere thought of never having to be in King Joffrey's presence, never having to bear his children, oh what sweet mercy!

"My Lady!" Sansa gasped, turning around only to find Petyr staring back at her, his words already making way to her ears.

"My sincerest condolences," Sansa put on her mask and answered him.

"They're right I'm not good enough for him – "

"You shouldn't say that, you'd be good enough for many things. He'd still enjoy beating you," he paused and Sansa's stomach dropped, "and now that you're a woman he'll be able to enjoy you in many other ways as well." At those words Sansa couldn't help but show her confusion, but most of all, her naivety.

"But…if he's not marrying me – "

"He'd let you go home?" He scoffed at his words, or hers, either way the look he gave her made Sansa feel sick.

"Joffrey's not the sort of boy who gives away his toys."

Night had fallen and Sansa was back in her chambers. Petyr had been right. Joffrey wasn't going to let go of her. If she hadn't already shed the last bit of tears hours before, perhaps she would've had to fight them back, but now all she could do was swallow. Sansa had nothing left but her honor and pride.

Joffrey's men had come for her before Petyr could help. They'd locked her in her chambers for two days before Joffrey had the decency to show up and acknowledge her existence. She jeered at her own mistake; of course, Joffrey had no decency.

"Lady Stark," Joffrey had smirked, his eyes glistening at the sight of her, battered and alone. At that moment all Sansa wanted to do was to spit at his feet but sense told her it would be unwise…so she acknowledged him with as much restraint as she could possibly muster.

"My Lord," what more could she say?

"That's right Lady Stark, I am still your lord, your king." At those words Joffrey stood up straighter than was necessary and strutted in her chambers like a rooster looking for a nest to settle in.

There was silence before he turned to acknowledge her once more.

"Pity really – you're far prettier than her you know." Sansa felt disgust for him and pity for the girl who was to be his beloved queen.

"You are too kind, my king."

Joffrey moved closer to her and raised his arm to her face. He gently stroked her cheek with the back of this hand and leaned into her.

"I'm really not that kind," bile rose in Sansa's throat and she swallowed as she closed her eyes at the proximity of Joffrey. Despite being a despicable person, a loathsome, evil, vile human being – Joffrey was still king and could do whatever that blond head so pleased…

"So you've had your first blood," It wasn't a question really. Sansa could see it in his shining blue eyes, which now stared up and down at her, not so much seizing up her womanhood but instead testing to see how far he could go. Despite everything, Joffrey still felt a buried fear for the Starks, for this girl he couldn't quite break.

Sansa nodded. Joffrey tilted his head and stepped back two steps.

"Good."

And then he had left. Sansa had fallen to the floor, weary and tear filled as the last steps of her once beloved King faded with the shut of the wooden door.