Game of Thrones Imagines

The Confession - Bronn x Reader

(Y/n) was not one to drink, she had seen what wine and ale had done to her older sister, what it had done to Robert, seen the effects of it on her brother Tyrion and so many others; but this evening, this evening she had had enough, and the pain that coursed through her was getting too much to bare, a pain that only got worse when she was near him, when she saw him around so many other women.

She knew it was foolish to care for him, she knew of his reputation with the fairer sex, she had been warned enough times about it by Tyrion; but there was something about the man, something about his wicked tongue and the sparkle in his eyes, something about the way he walked and how he would always seem to magically appear whenever she needed him.

Pouring herself another glass of Arbor gold, (Y/n) leaned back in the chair her eyes surveying the scene; she had never been in a brothel before, in fact she had never really left the Red Keep before, her father doing all he could to keep her away from all that may spoil the only child he loved, so the fact that she was now here, a place that she knew her father would hate, made her giggle slightly.

For so long she had been hidden away, a captive animal that was kept away from the real world, shielded by a father that wanted to sell her into marriage to the right house so that he could further cement his own power and fortune.

She had had to laugh to when she heard her father was considering a match with Loras Tyrell for her, for even she, as much of a prisoner as she was in the Red Keep, had heard of the rumours that spread like wildfire about Loras, and if her father wished for more grandchildren, then Loras was most definitely not the one to give them to him if the stories were true. 

As she sat at the table, swaying with the effects of the alcohol that was currently clouding her mind, she couldn't help but giggle at the insanity of it all, the insanity of her life, the insanity of loving a man she knew she could never have, wishing she could be more like Tyrion, wishing she could do whatever she wanted without interference.

Ignoring the inquisitive looks of the others in the brothel, she was filled with glee at the knowledge of how she had escaped her cage, how she had avoided anyone that may stop her, and how she was in a place she knew that her father would hate beyond belief.

"More wine!" (Y/n) slurred slightly, as a young woman came to the table to clear away the empty jug that seemingly moments before was filled with the best wine that Littlefingers cellar had to offer.

"My lady (Y/n), I wouldn't recommend that." A smooth voice said, as a dark mass seemed to instantly appear to her side like an ominous raven.

Normally Petyr wouldn't care about how much someone had to drink, it was more coin in his purse, and the alcohol loosened peoples tongues; but unlike her brother, (Y/n) was a dangerous Lannister to have around, there were not many as prized in the Seven Kingdoms as she, and if anything were to happen to the old lions golden child, then Petyr knew that Tywin's revenge would be swift and deadly.

"Ah, Lord Baelish. Is my gold not good enough for you? You are more than happy to take my brothers, so what is wrong with mine? Maybe it would make you feel better if I had one of your whores by my side, or is my gold not good enough for that either?" (Y/n) scoffed angrily, trying to blow away a long length of golden hair that had slipped from her braid and was now invading her hazy glare.

For once Petyr was taken aback, he had never heard (Y/n) speak in such a manner. Normally she was sweet and kind, the complete opposite of Cersei, with a quick wit and intelligent mind, usually she was a true lady, and despite Petyr's more than dubious reputation, he and (Y/n) seemed to strangely get along, the whoremonger annoyingly having to admit to himself that he had a real fondness for the lioness.