A/N- This is an imagine loosely based on the song Cold-Hearted Snake by Paula Abdul. I hope you all enjoy it.
You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes as one of your closest friends continued to fawn over the youngest, most sadistic, and only prince she had ever laid eyes on. You had heard rumours of Joffrey's strange behaviour from friends in the capital the last time you had visited them, and it hurt you to see how head-over heels Sansa had fallen with little regard for your well-informed opinion.
"Isn't he just utterly perfect?" she sighed, watching him contently as he wandered around Winterfell looking as though he would become diseased if he touched a single surface. He was not made to be outside of the clean confines of the Red Keep, and it was obvious for everyone but Sansa to see.
You scoffed lightly, "a little too royal for my tastes," you uttered, but she seemed completely unphased by your words, and continued to stare. You reached out, nudging her arm and causing her to glance down at you momentarily, where you crouched beside her, tying your shoes. "Are you even listening to me?"
Sansa shrugged softly, giving you a sweet smile before returning her eyes to the prince. "Don't worry, you'll definitely be invited to the wedding."
The comment caught you off guard, and your brows furrowed in disgust. "I hate weddings," you spat out, gesturing your chin in the direction of the future king, and holding back a bubble of laughter as he tripped over his own feet, clutching a fence post to stop himself from sprawling across the floor. "He can hardly even walk properly," you added, but your words went unheard as Sansa rushed to his side to make sure he was alright.
You released a deep sigh as you watched them both from a distance, and his smirk made your stomach turn in disgust. "He's a right slimy git." Theon's voice made you jump, but you were soon laughing at his comment, and smacking his arm lightly from the surprise he had given you.
"He's almost as bad as you," you murmured once you had calmed your laughter, and you felt his hand squeeze your hip lightly.
He growled deep in his chest, one of those faux madness sounds that you had grown used to. "I," he started quietly, turning your chin to make you look at him, "am not a slimy git, or else you wouldn't be marrying me."
You rolled your eyes, glancing around the courtyard before pressing a light kiss to his lips. "I guess you're right," you answered him softly, and he gave you a small smile before releasing your chin. "I just worry about her," you uttered, all happiness dropping from your voice, "she's not like us, she's dreamt up this perfect prince," you paused, releasing a deep sigh, "and she can't seem to realise that he is not the man she thinks he is."
You felt Theon's hand running over your arm, warming you slightly. "I'll talk to Robb, see if he's noticed anything off about our little prince or not." You nodded in agreement, your eyes still fixed on Sansa smiling face.
"If he hurts her, i'll kill him."
Theon tensed at your words, but made no move to chastise you for your threat. "Then he should know better than to hurt her."
*Time Skip*
"How dare you?" It was the most mad you had ever seen Sansa in your life, and as she glared at you you almost regretted your comments.
You sighed softly, lifting your hands as though it would calm her raging temper. "Theon and I are just trying to look out for you," you started, but you flinched away when she smacked your hand away from her.
"I don't need you to look after me." Your heart sunk at the words. You had been looking out for Sansa since you were both small children, and since you were a few years older than her you had made sure to take her under your wing. "I would expect Theon to interfere, but not you," she paused for a moment, watching you with fire in her eyes, "I expected you to be better than this."
It was then that the tears started, though you were unsure which one of you had started the water-works. "I'm sorry," you uttered softly to her, sniffing back tears as you felt Theon's hand come to rest on your back. "But he isn't right for you," you added, and you heard a shaking sob wrench itself from her body.
"Why can't you just be happy for me?"
You swiped at your tears, forcing them away as you shook your head. "I will be, but only when you are married to a man who is deserving of you." She was still shaking, but you couldn't bring yourself to take a step closer to her. "Joffrey is not him. I'm sorry."
Sansa hadn't said another word to you before leaving for the capital, but you knew she would never forgive you, not for spoiling her love. You could tell that she was looking at him differently, watching him with confusion rather than adoration, and you were almost thankful that you could make her aware of his deceptive ways.
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