(Y/n) watched as more and more warriors made their way into the Red Keeps courtyard. She had to admit that she had not seen much of the world. A few battlefields perhaps, when she had been in the entourage of men and horses that followed Robert and Stannis. But since Robert's rebellion, and him coming to the Iron Throne. Her home had been in the Red Keep underneath the watchful eye of her oldest brother and the Baratheon bannermen. Well, in truth, since Robert had found his ever expanding backside on the throne, (Y/n) had really watched over herself. Her brother growing more and more concerned with the drink and his whores than anything else. Though that did not mean that she had been neglected. The young doe always given the best of the best. From the best Maesters, to the finest instructors brought in by Robert to help her with the sword and bow. Even someone that had taught her how to fight hand to hand. Resulting in a Baratheon, that all brothers, including the normally stoic and cold Stannis, appeared to be proud of. The doe, at least in Robert and Stannis' eyes, becoming more of a stag than Renly could ever hope to be. So now, as all the creeds and colours of their world made their way to the capital, (Y/n) couldn't help but be excited to find out which one of the warriors she would get to compete against first.
She hadn't spoken to Robert since that night. She hated being underestimated, especially by her own brother. A brother that in her childhood she had so wanted to be like. The doe hoping to be as strong, charismatic, brave and tough as he was. The stag that had made the Seven Kingdoms sit up and take notice. So, to have him doubt her capabilities, had hurt. But she was not going to be swayed. And she had gone out of her way to completely avoid Bronn as best she could. Still annoyed that the sellsword would dare try and tell her what she could and couldn't do.
(Y/n) had to admit that she had no real idea why Bronn disliked her so much. She could never remember having done or said anything that she believed would warrant his treatment of her, when he had come with Tyrion to the Keep. But as he had continued with the rude, snide and sarcastic comments, (Y/n) had decided to follow suit. A little childish, perhaps. But she was not about to lose a battle of wits to a sellsword. Even if that sellsword was Bronn.
Under other circumstances, she could see herself quite liking the sarcastic shit. He certainly wasn't that hideous to look at. And his form was somewhat pleasing in a certain light. He was brave, a little too confident in his own abilities, but still brave. He was good with a sword. And cut quite a dashing figure when he was on horseback heading at full gallop, into the fray. Yet, she knew that he had a terrible reputation with the women of the city. A reputation that might be even worse than her brother's own drunken antics. And (Y/n) was not about to let herself lose her heart to a man with the same morals as a horny tomcat.
"Look, milady. Another one. Oh, he is so handsome. I wouldn't mind snuggling up under tha furs with him." Meira, (Y/n)'s lady's maid cooed. Both women laughing as they looked out of the great window.
"By the looks of him, I would say that he was a Dothraki. And you're right, he is quite handsome. Though I should imagine, a little savage."
"There's nothing wrong with a little savage, milady. Especially in tha bedchamber. Personally, I think ya want a man that can make ya toes curl."
"Meira.......stop. It's not appropriate. But your right." (Y/n) interrupted. The two women laughing again as they continued to watch the warriors.
"Anyway, I'm not interested in a man that loves his horse more than his woman. I'm waiting for someone else to arrive." (Y/n) told her, as she craned her neck a little, trying to get a better look.
"And there he is. Oh, look, Meira. Isn't he handsome? Now if I could beat him in the arena, no one would doubt me ever again." (Y/n) added. Meira's eyes growing wide as she saw the man that her mistress was referring to.
"But.......but that's Oberyn Martell, milady. The red viper himself. I have heard so many stories about him. Do ya think, well, do ya think that you could actually best him? I mean, he's supposed ta be one of tha fiercest and best fighters in tha Seven Kingdoms. You......"
"And that is exactly why I want to face him, Meira. Can you imagine Robert and Bronn's faces when I am victorious over the feared viper? And if the stories are true about his other abilities, then I think that the viper could make more than just your toes curl if he got you in the bedchamber." (Y/n) interrupted. Hoping beyond hope, that she would not only get to face him in the arena, but also have the pleasure of meeting him at the celebrations her brother was holding to open the tourney.
>>---------------------------------<<
"Clegane is competing. Loras Tyrell. Oberyn Martell has travelled from Dorne. I've even seen a damn Dothraki and Ghiscari. Men of the Mountain Clans have been takin over tha brothels. (Y/n) is gonna get hurt." Bronn complained, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Tyrion rolling his eyes as he watched the warriors mill around.
"Yes, Bronn. So, you have informed me. And no. Before you ask me again, I do not believe that (Y/n) has changed her mind and seen sense. (Y/n) is a very determined woman. And she is determined to prove you and her brother wrong. And if that means facing even the Mountain himself, she is going to do it." Tyrion replied. Rolling his eyes yet again as he heard Bronn huff and drop into a chair.
Bronn had tried to see (Y/n) since their last meeting. Yet she had been proving quite elusive. And he had to admit that he had been quite missing their daily battles. But more than that, he had hoped to try and get her to see that there was a great possibility, that despite her training and lineage, she could, and would be out matched. And could be harmed in the process. But Bronn knew that (Y/n) was more stubborn and headstrong than any woman that he had ever met. And that was one of the reasons that he liked her.
He had to admit that he couldn't quite remember how their fights had started. The sellsword believing that he was probably trying to show off, and somehow, it had all gone terribly wrong. Resulting in his only interactions with the beautiful doe, being when they were throwing snide and sarcastic comments at one another. Bronn determined to not lose the battle of wits. Even against (Y/n).
Under other circumstances, he could see the young Baratheon as the lady of the castle that he had always wanted. She was, after all, one of the most beautiful women in the Seven Kingdoms. And her form was more than pleasing in any light. She was brave, though maybe a little foolhardy. And she cut quite and elegant figure on horseback. Yet Bronn knew that the King would never allow a match between a sellsword and his beloved sister.
"If you are still so concerned. Why don't you try and speak with her tonight at the festivities? (Y/n) will certainly be there. I can't imagine that she would want to miss out on the opportunity to size up her competition. And it will probably be your last chance." Tyrion said, as he turned his attention from the activities outside the window, to Bronn. The sellsword seeming a little cheerier at the notion that he had one more chance to try and make (Y/n) see sense, before the tourney began in earnest.
"Aye. Its worth a try. Bloody woman probably won't listen. But its worth a try." Bronn replied, as he poured himself a drink and propped his feet up on the table.
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Game of Thrones Imagines Book Two
FanfictionThis is my second book of Game of Thrones imagines and one shots, and is a collection of some of my favourite characters, and hopefully yours. Most imagines will be fluffy, smutty, but mostly romantic. And some will even have my own special little...