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English
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Published:
2014-04-12
Updated:
2014-04-12
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503
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1/?
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Ours Is The Class Presidency

Summary:

you win or you lose, right? that's what high school is all about!

Chapter Text

It totally sucked being the new kid at Westeros High.

Daenerys pulled a face as she tore down a defaced flyer from her locker door. Ugh. It wasn't like she was even in the running for senior class president, gods, she was just in charge of her brother's campaign. But half the freakin' school seemed to assume it was her. She kept telling Viserys to get a haircut, but would he listen? Nooooo.

-

Jon stabbed his super special wolf pen into his notes. What was the teacher rambling about? Wait, what class was he even in right now? He tugged at his hair, trying to remember. Hmm, his hair... He'd have to wash it again tonight. He hoped Sansa hadn't hidden her conditioner in her room again. She got so annoyed when Jon used it that she called him a bastard. That was so unfair. It wasn't his fault he was a bastard and anyway he needed that conditioner way more than her.

He sneaked a sideways glance at his brother Robb, who was, of course, paying attention and keeping perfect notes. Jon would have to borrow those later. Anyway, you know what else was unfair? That Robb was running for class president and Jon wasn't even allowed. Ugh, it was just a stupid technicality. How was he supposed to know that when he became a hall monitor it would make him ineligible for all future student government positions?

Even if he quit! Not that he could quit; his dad would make a long speech about honour or something. Sigh. Another glance at Robb. Well, he never would've won against Robb anyway. Just look at that perfect hair. He bet Robb never had to steal Sansa's conditioner.

-

Margaery was starting to feel uncomfortable with this lunch table arrangement.

To her left, that rich kid Joffery sat talking a mile a minute about his election chances (a foregone conclusion in his mind), waving his fork of spaghetti around and getting flecks of marinara sauce all over her brand new dress. She smiled politely, nodding and throwing desperate glances in her brother's direction.

Yeah, no, no help was coming from Loras. He was too busy flirting across the table with Renly -- who was flirting back, much to Margaery's exasperation. Renly had invited her to lunch; Loras was only supposed to be her 'plus one'. She knew Renly was only trying to ensure her support for his presidential campaign, since she was apparently the pretty girl in class and letting people think she was his girlfriend would totally get the gossipmongers' votes, but he could make an effort.

At least his technical-nephew (she had no idea about all that; the Baratheon-Lannister family connections were so messed up) Joffery was genuinely interested in her, even if he was kinda leery about it. Speaking of--

She tugged up her dress to cover her chest better and gave the blond boy a pointed look. He smirked.

That was it: she was eating lunch with Sansa Stark from now on.