He started out light and teasing and then deepened the kiss. She had a moment to be grateful she was sitting on the stool and not standing because she wasn’t sure if her legs would even hold her up. A wash of heat spread over her body when she felt the wet slip of his tongue, but then, just like that, he was done.
What a tease, was her first thought. But then she saw his face. The arrogant smile she expected to see was nowhere to be found. Had he been disappointed in the kiss? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t wanted it – he asked for it, after all. She tried to decipher the odd look on his face when she realized he looked almost shaken.
Swaggering, arrogant Bronn, with his quick wit and black sense of humour, had actually been rendered speechless.
He recovered quickly, but it was too late, she didn’t doubt what she had seen.
“Thank you for the lesson, ser,” she said, her lips curving at the corners.
Meryll stood, and swayed a bit before finding her balance. “I suppose I better pay up, then.” She placed her palms on Bronn’s chest, playfully shoved him onto his bar stool, and then climbed onto his lap. She had never done anything quite this forward before, and it probably wasn’t the most graceful maneuver ever, but she decided she’d like to try it again sometime when she was sober.
Palms still resting on the hard wall of his chest, she leaned in and nipped at his lower lip. Her hand slid upwards, behind his head, and grabbed a handful of his dark hair to angle his head back. Then she closed her mouth over his in a deep, slow kiss.
Gods, yes.
Meryll took the lead, teasing her tongue against his, her lips insistent, wanting more. All she wanted to do was rip his clothes off, but she was not unaware that they were sitting in the middle of a very busy tavern. It took every bit of self-control that she possessed to wrench her face away from his.
There wasn’t much point in even trying to look unaffected. She blinked at him, wide-eyed, lips still slightly parted.
“Debt paid?” she asked, nearly breathless.
As she stood Bronn thought that would be the end of it, maybe she would retire back to her place in the Keep and that would be the end of the night between them but she came to him, her small hands on his chest and pushed him back down which startled Bronn as he stared at her, wide eyed and he felt his breathing stop as he felt Meryll’s weight on his lap. “What are-” Her lips closed over his and his vocal cords caught in his throat as she kissed him deep and slow.
His hands found her back and pulled her in close and everything around him became irrelevant and he couldn’t hear anything beyond his heart beat pounding and he was bound to keep the kiss going as Meryll finally managed to pull free from his grasp, his hands firmly around her and he buried his head into her neck and than rested it briefly on her chest before he looked up at her with amazement that she had the balls to do something like that and he just nodded to her question.
“Yes..but-”
Bronn wanted to ask her to come to his bed but he could only imagine if she wasn’t found in her bed and well, being found in her bed when she was supposed to be saving herself for a Lannister…He could only imagine Tywin’s wrath. “-I want you” Damn the consequences. When was he, Bronn the Sellsword content to follow the rules? Has he become soft being in the company of Tywin’s sons? Had he become a follower since he held a knight’s tittle? Bronn’s hands slipped down her back and stayed there as if waiting for her reply.
His words left her with butterflies in her belly as he sauntered off to buy the next round. Good gods, she was reacting like a silly little girl. It wasn’t as if she had never kissed a boy before. Oh, there had been plenty of boys. But Bronn was no boy, she reminded herself for the second time that night. He was all man, that one, and likely twice her age. Who knew how many women he had kissed … and gods only knew what else.
And he must be very skilled at kissing …
The thought didn’t exactly put her at ease. She could match him throw for throw at darts, but at this, he most certainly had the upper hand.
Meryll watched as Bronn returned to their table, a mug of frothy ale in each hand and a speculative smile on his face. He moved like a cat, silent and lithesome, and she knew he could be deadly when he wanted to be. He didn’t take his eyes off of her even once as he set the two mugs down on the table, and she did not fail to notice how he kept the ale close lest she try and take a sip without paying up.
Her heart was in her throat but she mustered up as much charm and bravado as she could nonetheless. “You drive a hard bargain, ser,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “Not just a kiss, but a proper kiss. And from a silly girl like me, who knows about as much about kissing as she does of throwing darts.”
The tall bar stool didn’t quite put her face level with his, but she only had to tilt her head a little bit upwards and place her hand behind his neck to pull his head down.
Heart pounding, she leaned in closer, brushing her lips against his– not really a kiss at all, nevermind a proper one – but a taste for what might be. She buried her face in his neck, suddenly overcome with shyness. She was in way over her head here. And why was she kissing him, anyway? He should be kissing her!
She raised her head to meet his dark eyes, and she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from grinning.
“Perhaps you could be so kind as to show me your idea of a proper kiss? I would not want to come up short for what i owe.”
When she echoed his words, he gave a nod and than snorted at the Frey girl, with a family like hers how could she not know about kissing, Bronn wondered to himself as he watched her tilt her head, pulling him closer into him. He felt his heart pounding harder and harder, nerves filled his belly and it quaked in anticipation as her lips met his only briefly.
A smile rested on his lips as she spoke, wanting to be shown a proper kiss, he realized that she had already pulled away, her head in his neck ever so briefly before he could move to her lips she had pulled even further back and he wanted to go fast and hard, kissing her like there wasn’t going to be a tomorrow for either of them but he also knew chances like this with a girl like Meryll wouldn’t come every day so he had to make it last.
Bronn leaned forward, a hand came to land on the small of her back, trailing up to her neck teasing as her as he did so until it went under her chin, cupping it to pull her closer to him as he leaned his head down, slowly advancing towards the wide eyed lady. “It would be my pleasure to show you My Lady. “ He purred in a breathy whisper before his lips covered Meryll’s in a soft and light kiss not breaking away and after a few seconds he deepened the kiss slowly getting less soft and light but not pushing the boundaries of rough, hot and heavy just yet but he let his tongue slip by for a second, brushing over her lips testing her boundaries. He needed air, he needed it now and he broke the kiss almost unwillingly so and his eyes now heavy with lust looked at Meryll, not sure quite what to say until he gathered his composure. “That-that’s ah, how it’s done.”
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.
“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.
He stood right behind her, one hand manipulating her arm, the other rested very casually on her waist. Thank the gods she didn’t actually need his instructions for throwing a dart, because she was having a very hard time concentrating on anything he was saying.
He was so damned close she could feel his breath on her neck and she shivered despite the warmth. She could smell him too, like leather and whiskey and pine and the faint smell of sweat underneath.
They both watched the dart sail through the air and hit the board. Not a bullseye, but better than his own throw, at least. And then he was gone.
Meryll was almost glad he had to move away to throw his own dart – it gave her a chance to recover, slow her breathing again, and try not to look too wide-eyed.
But then she took her turn, without his help this time, and realized she could have used more time to recover from his nearness, as her dart hit the very edge of the board.
Gods, she could not let him win, especially inebriated as he was. She didn’t care about the wager– she didn’t have any coin on her anyway, so he was paying either way. But for him to win, it was unacceptable. She hadn’t been bested in a game of darts since she was old enough to go to the tavern without needing to sneak out of her bed in the middle of the night. Mind you, she had only been competing against her own kin, such as they were.
Thinking quickly, she picked up a dart and made sure she was within his line of sight before he threw his dart. And then, oops, she dropped the dart and bent over to pick it up just as he pulled his arm back to loose his throw.
How fortunate that she was wearing a fitted pair of breeches, stolen from one of the serving boys, rather than a gown. Easier to sneak out of the castle as a commoner. And better to show off her assets.
The small clank of the sound of something dropping near him made Bronn’s attention as he looked over to where the sound was his eyes focused on the one thing that held his attention and that was the shapely ass of one Meryll Frey and with his focus off he found his dart throw off as well, hitting the very outer circle just as he tried to refocus on the dart board. His eyes wondered back to Meryll finding her ass not bent over anymore and gave a slight frown before he found his way back to his drink, taking a sip of the ale before he ventured back to the dart board, giving Meryll a look as he came up to her again, this time his hand trailed over her neck to move some hair away from her face “It’d be easier to see if you don’t have that hangin’ in your face” he mumbled as his hand moved to smack her ass, playfully,
“That move’ll only work once i’m afraid. Good trick though. Now, I believe it’s your turn. Unless you need me to help you again…” He commented as he leaned up against a support beam, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at her intently.
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.
“If she were a man she might, might give Robert Baratheon a run for his money on sleeping around.” Bronn wasn’t going to say one way or another if he really supported or not the girls decision to sleep around, honestly he could care less but the facts were that Amerei had a reputation and that he knew would not be good for House Frey’s already poor reputation and harder to find a Lord who would marry her.
“No marriage? Really? Are you going to outlive old Waldar Frey and not be married off and having babes of your own?” He asked, not suprised at all by her answer. The time he’d known Meryll he hadn’t pegged her for being a marrying kind of woman and his eyes focused on her finger as it trailed down his chest and they briefly glanced at her face before back on the hand.
“Lollys. Not after Cersei promised her Ser Bracken or whatever his name is, broke the agreement she did. So, Jaime promised me a better wife and castle and here I am.” his arms outstretched, gesturing to the tavern “Here in this shithole” as he put his hands down, one hand came down to gently rest on Meryll’s thigh “Besides, i’m not pure as a fresh babe in any aspect of my life, lady Frey”
Meryll started a bit when Bronn’s hand fell to her leg. She should not have been surprised – this wasn’t like the times that she sassed the stable boy back at the Twins. While the boy had been happy to exchange some suggestive and flirty banter, he would have never dreamed to lay a hand on his liege lord’s granddaughter. Bronn had no such qualms. And he was no boy.
It was a dangerous game she played, toying with a man such as Bronn – former sellsword, newly knighted, ambitious as heck and he made no effort to conceal it. And it was possible, just possible, that Meryll talked a bigger game than she played. But the thrill of sneaking past the redcloaks and city watch had left her feeling brave and reckless, and the ale was pushing brave over the line to stupid.
“I think there are enough Freys in the realm that my House should somehow survive without me adding any babes of my own,” she said with a wry smile.
There had been a time she had wanted such things – to be the Lady of a great keep and to bear sons for her Lord husband. But somehow the events of the past few months had put a damper on those dreams. She and her sisters and cousins had served as spoils of war between House Frey, House Bolton and House Lannister. Meryll should have been pleased to be marrying into a house such as House Lannister, even if it was one of the lesser branches, but part of her wondered if Lord Grandfather had just chosen names out of a hat when he decided which girl should married off to which little lordling.
Her trailing finger had ended up somewhere just above the sellsword’s belt. Meryll had learned a few things from Amerei, afterall. She knew what things to say or do if she wanted to end up in a man’s bed. She knew, but she had never actually done them before.
Meryll stood up so fast she nearly knocked the stool over. “How about a game of darts? Loser buys the next round.”
Bronn gave a smile as he felt Meryll’s finger stop at his belt and he was having a hard time keeping his mind focused on what Meryll was saying and he felt himself leaning closer into her, his body reacting to the anticipation of what could happen between them. He did after all find her attractive. She was not only one of the few beautiful Frey girls but in general a fine beauty and woman all around, she could drink and fight just as well as a man and yet she knew when to behave and act like a lady.
Maybe he had too much to drink, maybe it was the air of excitement around him but Bronn realized that in this moment he wanted Meryll and he was going to do his best to have her as soon as he could, screw her betrothed or what the Lannisters and her Grandfather wanted for her. Fuck the consequences. He’d have her all to himself if he was able to. But than suddenly, she was gone from his view and he nearly collided with the bar stool and he grumbled as he watched her walk towards the dart board.
“No fair” He called, stumbling over there himself “You’re at an advantage.” Bronn swayed just a bit as he picked up a set of darts and readied himself to throw one, the dart flew in the dartboard but not where it should have landed. Instead of the circles it had manged to get into the actual wood itself and he glared at Meryll.
Meryll knew Bronn wasn’t even a real Lord, just a Ser, as Lord Tywin had deemed to knight him after the Battle of Blackwater, but it was fun to see him get riled up nonetheless.
She waited, amused, as he took a drink from her mug before she could reach it. She was not as amused by his comment about her sister. Amerei liked to have fun, who could fault her for that? And Meryll could even be persuaded to admit there was a part of her that was envious of Amerei, the way that she did what she wanted and didn’t give a damn about what anyone else thought.
“Now, if Amerei was a man, you’d be drinking to her conquests rather than shaking your head in shame. And why should I keep myself pure for some lesser lion when he is no doubt fucking a different camp follower each night he holds Riverrun besieged? Not that I have any intention of marrying.”
Meryll took a long drink of ale and then set her mug down with a soft thud on the bar top.
“And what about you, Lord Bronn,” she said, trailing a finger down his chest. “Are you not promised to Lollys Stokeworth? Will you go to her bed all pure and maidenly?”
“If she were a man she might, might give Robert Baratheon a run for his money on sleeping around.” Bronn wasn’t going to say one way or another if he really supported or not the girls decision to sleep around, honestly he could care less but the facts were that Amerei had a reputation and that he knew would not be good for House Frey’s already poor reputation and harder to find a Lord who would marry her.
“No marriage? Really? Are you going to outlive old Waldar Frey and not be married off and having babes of your own?” He asked, not suprised at all by her answer. The time he’d known Meryll he hadn’t pegged her for being a marrying kind of woman and his eyes focused on her finger as it trailed down his chest and they briefly glanced at her face before back on the hand.
“Lollys. Not after Cersei promised her Ser Bracken or whatever his name is, broke the agreement she did. So, Jaime promised me a better wife and castle and here I am.” his arms outstretched, gesturing to the tavern “Here in this shithole” as he put his hands down, one hand came down to gently rest on Meryll’s thigh “Besides, i’m not pure as a fresh babe in any aspect of my life, lady Frey”
She eyed him speculatively. She didn’t have the coin to pay him off, but she didn’t think the Lannisters cared enough about her to offer the sellsword any gold. The Lannisters had bigger fish to fry than disciplining a prospective bride for Ser Devan Lannister.
The secret of her little escape was likely safe with Bronn. But that was probably the only thing of hers that was safe with the roguishly handsome sellsword.
“No, I didn’t come looking for you. I came looking to get away from all the ‘my lords’ and ‘my ladies’ in the keep”, she said, holding her nose in the air and curtsying as formally as possible. “Oh, I suppose I should be referring you to Lord Bronn of the Blackwater now. I hope I haven’t offended my lord.”
Meryll reached past him to grab his ale and quickly downed what was left at the bottom of the mug. She handed him the empty mug.
“So, my lord, are you going to buy me a drink, or what? It seems I have some catching up to do if you’re serious about this Bear and the Maiden thing.”
He huffed at Meryll as she curtsied and rolled his eyes soon as she called him Lord. “Cut the bullshit Meryll. Oh sorry…Lady Meryll Frey. Or was it Lannister?” He asked as he pushed coin towards the bar keep to get a drink for the young brunette and slid it to her once it came out and refilled his own, glowering at the empty mug that the ‘lady’ had drank out of. “So it seems you do. But don’t you want to be pure for your soon to be husband?”
He asked, tilting his head back to look at her fully. “Or will you escape every night to be rid of the ‘my lord and my ladies’? Marry him and that’s all you’ll get little Frey.” Bronn took a large gulp from Meryll’s own mug before she could reach for it, wiping the foam from his beard and gave a hefty sigh. “You’ll wear yourself out running away all the time. Best you not become like Gatehouse Ami. That’d be a shame.”
Goldnwulf 