Game of Thrones Imagines

Once upon a time in the west - Part 3

(Y/n) sat in the large fancy enamel bath that was positioned in the middle of the room that Baelish had had made up for her, the hot water calming and caressing her muscles. She had left Bronn and Tyrion to their drinking and talking some time ago, her body telling her that whiskey was the last thing she needed and that a bath and bed would be preferable.

(Y/n) took a handful of the hot water and let it slowly spill down her shoulder. She wasn't used to washing in something so fancy, normally a bath meant finding the nearest stream or river and cleaning herself as quickly as she could while Waya made sure that no one was around, so to now be sat in an elaborate tub, with hot water was a luxury she was not used to.

A tentative knock at the door alerted (Y/n) to the fact that the young woman that Baelish had told to take care of her during her stay, had returned with a fresh jug of hot water.

"Come in." (Y/n) called out, the girl slowly making her way into the room, struggling with the large heavy jug.

"Miss, Mister Baelish told me to ask if you needed anything else?" The girl asked, as she poured the hot water into the tub.

"No, I'm fine, thank you for helping me." (Y/n) said with a sigh, as she closed her eyes and sunk deeper into the water, not noticing that the girl had left the room with her clothes tucked under her arm.

As much as (Y/n) liked being back in Kings Landing and having the opportunity to see Bronn and Tyrion again, she had always preferred being out on the plains, watching as the wild ponies and buffalo grazed peacefully, the noise of the herds lulling her to sleep as she lay next to the fire with Waya close by. Despite having grown up in the town, in her soul (Y/n) was more Cherokee than white man, and she would visit the reservation whenever she got chance, often running away from her father when she was younger so that she could be with her mother's people, racing barefoot through the long grass with the other children, or learning to fish and shoot a bow with Waya's father. But with her father's murder, she had had to dispense with such childish things, and had become old before her time, the responsibility of finding her father's murderer weighing heavily on her young shoulders.

The rest of the townsfolk had been amazed when she had brought old man Walker into town for trial, at the time she had been barely considered a woman rather than a girl, but she had used every trick and skill she had learnt from her father and her mother's family to her advantage, her abilities ensuring that the hardened man had been taken by surprise, resulting in him being dragged gagged and bound behind her horse into Kings Landing.

(Y/n) could remember the day that the noose had been placed around Pa Walker's neck, she could remember the moment the trap door had opened and the old man dropped to his death, a sense of satisfaction filling her soul as she knew that finally her father could rest in peace now that he had been avenged.

When she told her friends that she was leaving the town, that she was going to venture into the wilds and hunt down other men that had done wrong, they had tried to talk her out of it, insisting that even if she wouldn't take the position of sheriff, she should stay to become one of Jaime's deputies; but despite all the people she loved and cared for in Kings Landing, now that her father was gone, there was nothing to tie her to the town.

"SANDOR!" (Y/n) suddenly shouted out, her eyes flying open as she remembered that she had not yet seen the big man, knowing full well that he would be gruff with her for him not being the first one she had gone to see.

Sandor had been a friend of her father, and even though he was younger than (Y/n)'s pa, he and Sandor had formed a friendship, the Sheriff taking the wayward man with the scared face and an itchy trigger under his wing.