“Aye, that he is. He may not be much of a looker but he’s from a well respected and great house.” Bronn eyed the girl carefully before he continued. “Won’t have to worry about raising babes anytime soon either. Seems the Gods are giving you some good in all this bad” He tried to be sympathetic towards her situation best he could before taking a small sip from his goblet. “You and Margaery Tyrell seem to be gettin along pretty well.”
Sansa purses her lips together about Bronn’s statement. “Perhaps I don’t want any babies to raise.” Her blue eyes flick up from her embroidery work for a moment. “Queen Margaery and I have found friendship in one another, we’re both from far off places and though Winterfell and High Garden are very different we share the same homesickness.”
Bronn quirked an eyebrow at the statement. “Don’t catch any Lord hearing you say that.” He cautioned. Honestly, Bronn could care less what she did or did not do but he knew how things worked, he knew how Nobles were. “Remember, most highborns such as yourself are seen as ways to get heirs, bargaining chips in wars and treaties. You don’t always get your way.”
He knew what he was implying wasn’t the most proper thing to be saying to a Lady like Sansa, but he figured she’d better find out this way then the worst and hard way. “That’s good to hear. Friends are good to have. Though, I’m sad to say I’ve quite forgotten what it feels like to be homesick. Can’t miss what you don’t have.“ He shrugged as he swirled his goblet absentmindedly.
Goldnwulf 