Queen in the North

Bronn

So, yet again, I'm messing with the timeline but I had to include this scene (for obvious reasons). 

The Tarly boy was green. That would get him killed. He sat, tall and proud on a horse that he could control with ease, holding a sword that he had been trained to use. That horse and that training would do next to nothing for him in battle. Bronn had watched the best of swordsmen be struck down on the field. Men that had trained with masters, had died simply because they couldn't stomach true war. They had grown up believing the fantasy that war was full of glory, but true war held nothing but desperation and darkness. Luckily, Bronn thrived in times of war. 

"Ser Jaime." Tarly greeted, Bronn and Jaime. 

"Rickon," Jaime replied with his lordly smile. 

"Dickon." Tarly corrected. 

Bronn couldn't contain his laughter. Jaime flashed him a look similar to that of a mother scolding her child for saying a rude comment, which only egged his laughter on. 

Tarly's mouth pressed into a firm line, in embarrassment. 

"I hear that High Garden will be your first battle. I have no doubt that you will fight bravely." Jaime chose to ignore Bronn. 

'Ahh, Jaime thinks that compliments will make this lordling cunt follow him.' Bronn thinks. He never quite understood diplomacy, but then again, he never had to. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut and his sword slick with blood. 

"What do you expect from your first battle?" Jaime asks.

Tarly's answer is immediate and sounds remarkably similar to the answer of every noble squire, knight, or lord that had ever been asked the question. "It will be glorious." He says.

Bronn snorted. "Let me save you the surprise of experiencing actual battle, lad." He started, "It will smell worse than a hundred thousand chamber-pots. Men shit themselves when they die. Did they teach you that at fancy lad school?"

The boy's face crumbled and Jaime shot him a look saying 'stop, your embarrassing me'. Bronn had grown used to that look, from both Jaime and Tyrion (although Tyrion had been more apt to indulge him crudeness, as he found it almost humorous). 

"Well, I learned that when I was five. Ahh, my first kill. You always remember your first. He was a boy about two years older than me and forty pounds heavier. I smashed his face in with a rock after he tried to steal my bread. Taught that fucker a lesson." Bronn grinned, "However, I lost my appetite when the smell of shit wafted up from his breeches."

Jaime was staring at him with pure disgust while Tarly looked like a maid who was about to faint. 

"What?" Bronn asked.

Jaime shook his head.

"It has been a pleasure, Ser Jaime and Ser Bronn. I must return to my father." Tarly said and spun his horse before leaving.

"Did you have to scare him off?" Jaime asked, turning to Bronn.

"I wanted him to have realistic expectations. I did the boy a service." 

"And I bet that is what he will tell Randall Tarly."

Jaime's eyes turned back to the road ahead. "High Garden won't be easy to take, and for what? Why would we take the castle? There is more gold in Casterly Rock. Hundreds of men will die because Cersei feels slighted." He says softly.

It wasn't like Jaime to doubt Cersei like this. Bronn knew that Jaime had followed her for what lay between her legs rather than duty, but why did he suddenly doubt her?

"We have orders. Take a line out of the Tarly boy's book, there will be glory in the battle for you, and a castle for me." Bronn replied, hoping that Jaime would return to his normal self quickly. Bronn had a lot of gold riding on this undertaking. 

Jaime's eyes remained distant as he kicked his stallion forward. 

Bronn grimaced. He liked Jaime, but he would kill him if it secured his future. Bronn spurred his horse after Jaime as they made their way to High Garden.

The Reach was one of the blandest places that Bronn had ever seen. Everything was green fields and frolicking sheep. It reeked of the labor of farmers, making Bronn shudder. He always hated the idea of becoming a farmer. When he was a boy, he swore to himself that he would never shovel shit for a living, and he held true to that oath. It was one of the only oaths that he had ever taken seriously. 

The sky was blood red by the time they made camp. The squires busied themselves with building fires and setting up tents as the lords took to laying in the shade of the trees. Bronn had grown accustomed to having a squire, it was one of his favorite parts of being a knight.

He laid against a maple, sipping a Dornish red from the bottle as squires bustled about him. A small smile rested on his face. 

The red sky faded from red to purple to navy. Fires illuminated the camp as Bronn finally stumbled into his tent. Jaime was already waiting for him. 

"I distinctly remember asking for a whore to be waiting for me, not you." He said and glared at Jaime. 

Jaime looked pale. "We need to leave." He whispered hoarsely.

"What?" Bronn's face scrunched up as he looked at Jaime.

"Cersei isn't worth dying for. She sent us here to die because I ended our... relationship. She knows that this is a death trap and she sent us anyways." Jaime tried to explain.

"So, because you stopped fuck'in your sister, she sent ten thousand men to their deaths? You sound like a self-centered cunt right now."

"I don't care about how I sound, we need to leave before we die for a woman who isn't worth fighting for."

"Why would I leave? I have a lordship riding on this venture."

"Because you want to stay alive, and a Lannister always..."

"Don't fucking say it." Bronn interrupted, his mind whirling. It was always easy to tell when Jaime was lying. He wasn't this time. "Have the squires saddle the horses. Grab as much gold as you can, ill get some provisions. We ride in an hour. Where do you suggest we go? Casterly Rock?"

"No, Winterfell," Jaime said, relief all over his face.