Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book four

Want - Part 4 - Bronn x Tyrion x Reader

Irate.......livid.......furious. That was how she felt as her arm was suddenly grabbed, and she was pulled down the street and into one of the many narrow hidden alleyways that littered the old city. She was going to kill him......she swore that she was going to kill him. Tyrion having to find himself a new bodyguard, because this one was going to be floating, face down, in Blackwater Bay, any minute. How dare he humiliate her in front of the eyes of so many. She hadn't wanted him to come in the first place. The little lion not needing the smug, sarcastic, drunk sellsword when she was around; but her old friend had felt the need to invite him, and now here they were. (Y/n) digging the heels of her boots into the cobblestone, making Bronn come to a stop. The lady forcibly pulling her wrist away from his grasp.

"What do you think............?"

"Who tha fuck was that.........?" Bronn quickly interrupted, as he turned to look at her.

"What........?

"Who tha fuck..........?"

"What has that to do with you.......?" (Y/n) countered, as Bronn came to stand in front of her. The two stood toe to toe, glaring at one another. Neither seeing nor hearing the slightly puffed, small nobleman, that had finally caught up to the pair. Tyrion resting one of his hands against an ancient wall, and the other on his knee, as he did his best to catch his breath. The lion not concerned for (Y/n)'s wellbeing, but Bronn's. The lady never one to be manhandled in such a way. The memory of two men of the City Watch returning (Y/n) to the Keep, when she had been little more than ten name days old, springing to mind. One of the guards sporting a rather quickly developing bruise to the eye, while the other......well, Tyrion was sure that his injury had involved something rather hard, hitting something very soft. He often wondering to that day, whether the poor man had ever been able to have children. But looking at her, seeing the fire in her eyes, the usefulness of his gentleman parts, was the least of Bronn's concerns.

"It has everything ta do with me. Now who tha fuck was that..........?" Bronn grabbing hold of the top of her arm and shaking her a little. Tyrion having to admit that he was a little taken aback by the sellsword's actions. He never having seen Bronn like this before.

"You have lost your mind; that or left it at the bottom of a wine glass in Tyrion's rooms. The last time I checked, you were not my father, the Lord Hand, nor my husband, thank the Seven. What I do, and with whom I do it, has nothing whatsoever to do with you. Whom I choose to spend my time with, to be friends with, is no concern of yours. So, I suggest keeping your nose out of my business, before you lose it; and I make the girls in Baelish' brothels, more scared of your scarred face than they are Sandor's......" (Y/n) hissed back through gritted teeth. Reaching for Bronn's wrist and violently twisting it until the surprised man, released her. The lady turning her back on the sellsword and making her way back along the alleyway, hoping to find Sterlan, so that she could try and explain this lunacy to him; despite the fact that she didn't know why Bronn was acting like this in the first place. He demanding to know about her affairs; about the big, handsome blacksmith that had agreed to show her how to make a sword. About the smith that she had admittedly grown close to and found very attractive; but knew that friendship was as far as it could ever go. Lord Tywin not likely to allow her to wed herself and family fortune to a simple man; was something that she had not expected when she, Tyrion and Bronn had left the keep.

"Is that why so many people round here know ya. Why ya hate tha Street of Silk so much; tha girls that work in Baelish's brothel. Ya not good enough ta service tha nobles; only tha smallfolk that can afford a couple of coins for a quick fuck up against a wall or in the cheapest place in Flea Bottom........." Bronn called out, stopping the lady in her tracks. Tyrion reaching out to place his hand over hers when he saw the glint of her blade, as it was slowly drawn from its sheath. He not even able to believe what Bronn had just said.

"Bronn......apologise........!"

"Ya don't pay me ta apologise. Especially not ta a supposed lady that willingly lift up their skirts down amongst tha smell of shit from tha tanneries........"

"Bronn........!" Tyrion warned again. He able to feel (Y/n) shake under his hand. The little lord sure that he had never seen his friend, the girl that he had once wished to marry, so angry. Tyrion knowing that if her sword was fully drawn, it would not end well.

"(Y/n) please. It is not worth it. It is just a very poor joke on Bronn's behalf. Anyone that knows you, would never............"

"Keep him away from me, Tyrion..........." (Y/n)'s voice steady, despite the shake of anger in her hand.

"Keep him away from me, or the next time I see him, death will be the least of his concerns. Do you understand me........?" Her eyes finally turning to look at him. Tyrion nodding slowly, before letting his hand slip from atop hers. The pair looking at one another for a moment longer, before (Y/n) drew herself to her full height, and with her head held high, left the two men. Tyrion now turning his attention to Bronn.

"What.......?" The sellsword just shrugging his shoulders at the look the little lord gave him. Tyrion able to do nothing but shake his head, before he too made his way back out of the alleyway.