Game of Thrones One Shots

Bronn/Reader

"The air is far too cold here.  Don't you think, Bronn?"

"Shut up."

Tyrion Lannister and his new sellsword Bronn walked briskly down a wooded path, Tyrion endlessly chattering about nothing in particular and Bronn staring straight ahead of himself.  "You really saved my ass back there, Bronn."  Bronn simply nodded.  "I'm not joking.  I would be dead if not for you."

Bronn rolled his eyes.  "Maybe I should've let them do you in so I wouldn't have to put up with you."  He and Tyrion both chuckled at that.  Tyrion was prepared to pay him far too much for Bronn to ever let him die.

"It's getting a bit dark, Bronn," Tyrion said, looking up at the nearly set sun.  "Perhaps we should make camp."

"Well alright.  If you insist."  Bronn and Tyrion opened up the sack of goods that Catelyn Stark had supplied them with before their departure.  Bronn set up a tent, and Tyrion got a small fire going so they wouldn't freeze.  Winter was approaching sooner than they'd thought.

Tyrion sat in front of the fire as Bronn nailed the tent into the ground.  It was rather peaceful.  This was the most at ease Tyrion had been since he was seventeen years old.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut."

At least until his peace was interrupted by a knife at his throat.

He started to call for Bronn, but the person could tell, and they tightened their grip on Tyrion's arm.  "What did I fucking say?"

Tyrion fought the urge to call for Brown again.  "Bronn is going to notice you any minute now, and when he does you'll be quite sorry you ever tried to go after me."

"We'll see about that."  It was a woman, Tyrion suddenly realized, with a high and delicate voice.  It wasn't much suited for threatening.

Tyrion didn't have much time to ponder about this mysterious female assassin in the night, however, for Bronn quickly came to his rescue.

He pressed the tip of his sword into the woman's back.  "Drop it," he said lowly.  "Or I'll chop off your arm." 

The woman sighed, and she dropped the weapon.  "Get off of me," she hissed.  Bronn pushed his sword further into her.

"I'd like you to be nicer, little lady."  She grimaced.

"Fuck you," she muttered.  She grabbed her sword and twisted around, pointing it straight at Bronn.  He grinned, laughing, and smacked her sword out of her hand; she hadn't expected him to move so quickly. 

"Shit."  She stared at him, her hands lifted a bit in defense.  "I..."

Bronn lowered his weapon.  "Oh, little lady, I can tell you won't be much trouble.  Now tell me who you are."

"Call me little lady one more time and I'll cut off your balls."  Bronn laughed out loud.

"Really, just tell us."

"I know who you are," she said pointedly, turning and looking at Tyrion.  "You're Tyrion Lannister."

"Well that can't be too hard to deduce."  Tyrion rolled his eyes.  "I'm Tyrion Lannister.  This is Bronn.  Who might you be?"

She swallowed, realizing that there was nothing left to do.  "I'm (Y/N) Stark."

Tyrion's eyes widened.  "My lady," he said, but she cut him off.

"Don't call me that either."  She looked from him to Bronn, who just looked slightly perturbed.

"Well what are you doing out here in the middle of the woods?" Tyrion asked incredulously.  "Shouldn't you be with your sisters in King's Landing?"