The feathery light touch of his fingers over her neck was nearly her undoing. Her knees threatened to buckle but the sharp crack of his hand hitting her ass jolted her upright again. The man was insufferable. And she liked it.
“I don’t need anymore of your help,” Meryll said, but she took his advice and twisted her hair back, securing it with a lockpick from her pocket. She grinned when Bronn caught sight of the pick. “How do you think I escaped Lord Tywin’s guest chambers?”
Meryll looked at the board, tallying the points in her head. It was the third round, and traditionally the last round, and she would need a bullseye just to tie the score. She went to pick up her last remaining dart, but then changed her mind and lifted her nearly full mug of ale instead. She emptied the mug in one long drink, and then had to cover her mouth to hide a very tiny and hopefully ladylike burp. Certainly, the alcohol wouldn’t help her aim much, but she needed the fortitude.
She took the dart in hand and stared at the board. Gods, she couldn’t bear to lose to the arrogant sellsword. She could just imagine the way he’d swagger about after winning despite being too drunk to even walk properly. He had a very nice swagger, actually. She’d seen it a time or two before.
She couldn’t help but to glance back at him again, and yes, he was still staring. Meryll wondered if he ever looked at a woman without undressing her with his eyes. She turned quickly back to the board, trying to ignore that little feeling of jealousy over the idea of him looking at other women like he was looking at her. Because if there was anything she was sure about, it was that Bronn had undressed a lot of women in his lifetime, and not just with his eyes.
Her annoyance was of benefit to her, as it allowed her to focus on her target and imagine it as the face of the last little hussy she saw Bronn sneaking around the Tower of the Hand with.
Her aim was true and the dart struck the bullseye.
She turned back to the sellsword, unable to resist putting a little swagger in her own step as she approached him. “A draw. Perhaps we’ll have to split the cost of the next round,” she said, and then made a show of rifling through her pockets.
“Though I seem to have forgotten my coin purse.”
She had guts, he had to admit. Sneaking out of places and into places she shouldn’t be at. Most other ladies around Merylls age would rather be married off and starting to have little Lords and Ladies, content to just sew and chase after the children but not Meryll. She didn’t want any of that, not even if it meant bettering her station by marrying a lesser Lannister. There was something attractive about all of that, it was like a challenge, one he knew her intended would fail at if he only could see Meryll as just another lady, as just a way to smooth over house alliances and pass on the family name. “Very clever” He replied in regards to the lockpick, both as a means to escape and as a hair accessory.
Bronn stared at Meryll as she downed the ale, a bit dumbfounded that she could manage to drink all of it in one fell swoop, his mouth hung open the tiniest bit as his attention was solely on her. If she made this last dart count he just might end up paying for how he threw his first dart though they would still not have a clear winner which would be a problem as the bet was whoever lost was buying.
The way she glanced at him before she threw the dart and the look of irritation on her face made Bronn think that she was simply irritated at the idea of having to pay and he gave a shrug to her as she glanced over but as soon as the dart left her hand he felt his body tense and in the split second it took for the dart to find it’s way in the bullseye Bronn forgot how to breathe. They had tied. He let out a long sigh, arms uncrossed as he watched Meryll swagger over and he couldn’t help but grin at her as she spoke, his eyes watching her carefully trying to make a show of looking for her coin purse. He had that done to him plenty of times, sometimes with the people who were going to pay him not expecting he would get the job done. They’d paid for it all right, just not with the coin.
“Shame here I was thinkn’ I was gonna have a free drink. How about this? I pay for the drinks and you give me a kiss. A proper one, Lady Frey. As payment.” he propositioned as he started to make his way back to the barkeep not even waiting for her reply and put coin fourth to buy the next round which came out almost as soon as the coin hit the bar. Bronn kept both mugs of ale near him, watching expectantly at the young woman.
Goldnwulf 