She nearly snatched the steaming mug out of his hands it smelled so good.
“Oh I read it … I just thought it was part of the decorating — like you were going for a retro theme or something.”
“Well i’m not, and it’s policy” He explained.” People can take a break from their phones and enjoy some company or a book or whatever.” Jory made a wide gesture to everyone else who was either talking to another person or reading or even doodling, a kid had brought in a Nintendo DS and Jory gave a sour look and sighed.
“Technically, not breaking the rules..” He said a low tone more to himself. “Anyways, you passin’ on through or you stayin around this small town for long?”
“And you would lose all safety and security from any houses if you came with me. I hate that you are with him Meryll. But least this way I get paid, paid more than I’ve had in a while and you are..safe…”
He wouldn’t admit it but he feared what would happen if she and he ran. They’d be looking over their shoulder every minute and he didn’t want that for her. He cared about her too much, more than he’d admit. He wanted her, but he cared so much for her that he would give up his own happiness so she could be safe.
“Would you really want to be on the run? Would you honestly be content with me? Not just as a friend and a lover… Meryll…I can’t give you what that Lannister can.”
For perhaps the first time in her life, Meryll began to see the merits in wearing a dress rather than breeches. Certainly they were not very practical for a quick clandestine meeting in the corridor.
Whatever he was doing with his mouth was amazing, until he mentioned getting caught. Less talking, Bronn, and more kissing. The idea of being caught would have been exciting except that they were in Lord Tywin’s tower, and the idea of being discovered by Lord Tywin himself was a sobering thought.
“Seven hells, Bronn,” she swore, pushing his hand away from the ties on her breeches. “If Lord Tywin catches us, he’ll have your head and I’ll get sent back to the Twins.”
His room was only a few feet away, and why they couldn’t have made it there in the first place escaped her now that she was sobering up a little. Once safely inside with the door firmly shut, Meryll let her cloak drop to the floor and kicked off her boots. It was easy enough to shimmy out of her breeches now that Bronn wasn’t trying to help. For heavens sake, the man had been putting on and taking off his own breeches for his entire life and he still couldn’t figure out how to get someone else’s off.
She stood there before him in nothing but her linen tunic, long enough to cover her bottom, thank the gods. Her hair had long since fallen out of its makeshift updo and the neck of her tunic was already falling over her shoulders, thanks to Bronn’s untying of the drawstring. Without a lantern or candle lit, the room was dim, lit only by the faint bit of moonlight coming through a single window, and Meryll couldn’t make out the expression on Bronn’s face. This wasn’t exactly how she had envisioned this moment, but with any luck, Bronn was drunk enough that it didn’t matter.
She had no intentions of becoming like her sister, Amerei, but she failed to see anything wrong with having just one night of fun before being married off to some poor excuse for a Lannister. And Bronn was the perfect choice – witty, attractive and experienced, and not likely to get too attached.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
Bronn was relieved as she stopped his movements and he lead her back to his room and he began to undress himself as he watched Meryll take off her breeches and he gave a grin as all that she was in was her tunic as he took his shirt off to revel a muscular bod heavily scarred with cuts and old scars. He heard something fall as he tossed his boots aside and shrugged it off sure it wasn’t important enough to worry about right now when he had a nearly naked woman in his room. “Nothin’“ he replied back to her as he crossed the room to where she was at, closing the distance between them and covered her mouth with his to resume their kiss as his hands traveled under her tunic and to her back although one gave her ass a smack, grinning as he kissed her.
He pushed her back towards the bed and while it wasn’t as fancy as she was probably used to, it did the job of bedding woman and being slept on and that’s all Bronn cared about. His hands worked their way around her body ever so slowly, catering to her breasts and thighs more so as he trailed his fingers downward before he held one leg in his hand and trailed a line of kisses down it gently nipping at the skin as he got towards the thigh and he slowly made his way towards her entrance, giving it a drawn out lick before he slithered his way back towards her chest and face.
He planted more kisses once again on her lips and neck. “You taste so sweet, maiden.” He growled, teasing Meryll some more with the song, giving a half assed attempt at a bear growl before his head found her wetness, tasting it once again and spent extra care on the part he knew would get her to whine until he himself began to want her so much that he pulled away and he looked at her, his eyes finding hers as he spoke “You ready?” He asked her, and as soon as he got his reply, he thrusted inside her and moved his hips as he would have with any other woman. Until he realized there was something off about Meryll and that’s when his pace slowed down and his thrusts became softer “Seven Hells Meryll.” He groaned as he came to a halt “Least tell me first. Are you okay?” He asked, concerned that he may have hurt her in some kind of way.
They finished their ales in record time, almost as if that was a competition as well. (And if it was, she won.) Meryll shrieked a little bit when he carried her a few steps, and after he placed her back on the ground she couldn’t help but sing a verse of The Bear and the Maiden Fair under her breath.
The bear, the bear! Lifted her high into the air! The bear! The bear!
I called for a knight, but you’re a bear! A bear, a bear! All black and brown and covered with hair
“I am no princess Bronn, and you’ll get no castle from me,” she said with a sly smile, following him out the door. The night was cool and she leaned into his warmth as they made their way back to the Red Keep. Nearing the gates, Meryll tucked her long hair under a cap and pulled her cloak around her shoulders. The guards at the gates recognized Bronn on sight and let them both in without any questions, just as Meryll was hoping. From there, it was just a short distance to the Hand’s Tower, where Bronn kept his room under the stairwell. Meryll led the way, knowing exactly where his room was (she may have even walked by it several times a day hoping to run into him).
They didn’t quite make it all the way to Bronn’s chambers. As they walked down the deserted corridor of the Hand’s Tower, Meryll couldn’t resist pulling Bronn into a dark alcove and covering his mouth with hers.
She pressed him back against the stone wall, and kissed him hungrily, her lips insistent on his, and her palms sliding over the hard wall of his chest.
A chuckle came past the sellswords lips as Meryll began drunkingly singing and he joined in finishing the song as they neared the keep and for a moment he wondered if the guards would catch on that it was Meryll that was accompanying him to the Hands Tower but they both were waved through, most likely thinking Bronn was bringing back some hussy to his bed.
He tried to make it to his chambers, let alone his door when Meryll pulled him in towards a small alcove and was pushed back against a wall and to his surprise he found her lips and hands on him hungrier than he would have expected them to be and he pressed his lips against hers harder and with more intensity than he had at the inn. A hand slipped to her back and pulled her against him wanting to feel her closeness and her warmth and both hands rested on her hips. Bronn was craving more from her, more than some dark kiss in some alcove and his lips moved down to her neck, planting kisses all around it and nipping at a few spots, below her ear and near some vital parts of her neck.
“You’re right, you are no Princess. You’re a bad girl, Meryll. Look at you, coming apart at a Sellswords touch.” He spoke, his voice rumbling as he nipped near her breasts, one hand moved to caresses them as his other hand began short work of what he had forgotten wasn’t a dress and he gave short lived frown as he began undoing her top and cloak and was attempting to do the same with her breeches which was a bit harder, having to have never taken breeches off anyone but himself. “Do you want us to get caught? Is the idea of getting caught here like this exciting?”
She had never done anything like this before. She was well and truly drunk, and perched on the lap of a handsome but no doubt dangerous sellsword who would likely willingly slit her throat if someone offered him enough gold. And that just made him all the more desirable.
His hands felt good, his very nearness felt good and she liked that he sounded just as desperate and out of control as she felt. Not that she would give him the satisfaction of showing it though…
“The night is still young, Ser Bronn, and I want to enjoy the ale I just paid for,” she said, kissing him on his scruff-covered cheek. She reached over and picked up the two mugs, handing him his. “But drink up fast. I’ll need your help in getting back into the Red Keep, and then I’ll need to … thank you for your assistance.”
He grasped his mug in one hand as the other rested on her back and was content to just have her stay in his lap. This was all he needed right now, Meryll in his lap and a mug of ale in his hand. “Don’t test me sweetheart” Bronn chuckled, raising an eyebrow at the young woman as he downed his ale in no time. He’d had plenty of practice during his youth in drinking competitions and while he had been beaten a handful of times he’d won more than enough to make up for the losses.
“Of course. What kind of knight would I be if I didn’t help a maiden in need?” He told her as he readjusted his legs as they were getting used to the weight on them and gave a surprised sigh of relief as his back popped in just the right spot that he didn’t know needed popping. “Shall we?” He asked as he put his mug down with a loud thud and stood, carrying Meryll for a minute as he stood, kissing her cheek before setting her down. “I ain’t carrying you the whole way, Princess” He ruffled her hair before he started towards the door, jesting with her and he realized how much he liked Meryll’s company. There was something familiar and inviting about her and he’d be lying if he didn’t want more of it.
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.
Goldnwulf 