She blinked in surprise when his throw went wide of the board. He was drunker than she thought. She hoped he didn’t hit some innocent bystander with one of his wayward darts – it’d be a great way to start a bar fight. And then the watch would be summoned. And Lord Tywin would no doubt hear about in the morning.
Meryll took a dart in hand and was about to throw when she realized this competition was going to be very poorly matched, and not a challenge at all, judging from Bronn’s first throw. She had been hoping for a close match. Certainly, the sellsword was skilled with all sorts of weapons, and no doubt he was able to throw a dart. Gods, how much had he had to drink before she showed up?
But there were other ways to have fun playing darts, she supposed.
She smiled coyly over her shoulder at the sellsword. “You know, I don’t actually know how to throw a dart. Perhaps you could act the gallant knight that I know you are and show me?”
“Can’t exactly leave a woman in need go unheard now can I?” He asked, in his drunken stupor he didn’t even question that he was sure, in the back of his mind that she had thrown a dart before while he watched but he shrugged it off and walked over to her and placed his hand on her arm getting it at the right angle and bend. “Now, keep your arm like this and than throw it” He told her, placing a hand on her waist to help keep her steady and also for his own selfish needs.
“Make sure to use more of your wrist to flick.” He added as his breath hit her neck as he had come in close to her, trying to make sure her arm and hand were both in a good place to throw, and watched as the dart flew into the board, a better landing job than he had done earlier. Maybe he shouldn’t be helping her win. It would be bad for his coin purse after all. But where was the fun if there wasn’t a lose or win situation? On one hand he could let her win and he could pay but than she would know that he had thrown the game or he could win and have her pay and he’d have a free drink but than she might be a sore loser and want a rematch. Neither option when he got down to the details sounded good.
Stepping away from Meryll, his fingers trailing off her waist ever so slowly and rolling his shoulders, Bronn took a deep breath before he threw his own dart, landing it square in the middle even to his own surprise and he masked such things well, rubbing his index and thumb together. “You best be ready to pay up for those ales missy” Though he attributed his last throw to pure luck rather than his own skills due to being heavily intoxicated.
Goldnwulf 