Game of Thrones Imagines

Dark Knight - Part 4 - Bronn x Reader

Bronn sat in his room contemplating what he had just seen. The Dark Knight was beautiful. Not just a normal, everyday kind of beautiful that he would find at any brothel on the Street of Silk, but a haunting, mysterious, exquisite beauty that one might never be lucky enough to see in a whole lifetime. A beauty that could start wars, that could bring men to their knees. Beauty that a man would willingly sell his soul for. Beauty that a man would willingly kill and die for.

He couldn't help but wonder who she would want dead that much, that she had been willing to offer herself to the Lord of the Seven Hells to have them dispatched. To be prepared to be his weapon until her debt was repaid. But that was just one of the hundreds of questions that seemed to surround the enigmatic Knight. Questions that Bronn found he had even more desire to ask now that he knew the truth of the creature that lay beneath the mask.

A sudden knock at his door alerted Bronn to a presence outside. The sellsword getting to his feet and making his way over to the ingress. Opening it to be confronted by a dark spectre with a large hood, black mask, and a pair of perfect eyes.

"Yah came." Bronn said, as he happily opened the door open so that the Knight could enter.

"Well, you did offer me a drink. And as I don't know where else to get a good glass of wine around here, this seemed like the best option." The Knight replied, as she removed her hood, and pulled off the mask. Bronn believing that she had grown in beauty since he had seen her just a short while before.

"I believe that life is too short to waste it on bad wine and good men. Give me good wine and bad men, and I will be happy." The Knight chuckled. Bronn finding it hard to match the feared warrior on the battlefield to this woman sat before him.

"Can I ask ya something, (Y/n)?" Bronn asked, as he handed her a goblet of fine wine.

"If you feel you must. Then ask." (Y/n) replied, already having a feeling that she knew what his question would be.

"Who was it? I mean, who was it that ya asked tha Lord of tha Seven Hells ta kill?" Bronn enquired, as he took a seat across from her.

"My father." The Dark Knight replied matter of factly, as she took her first gulp of the fine red liquid in her glass.

"Ya father? Why?" Bronn continued, not sure whether it was the best idea to push the feared warrior for more information or not.

"Once, when I was young. My father was a loved and respected commander of a great king's army. Loyal to his men and feared by his enemies. A good man. But something changed. It wasn't immediate, it was slow and painful. It eat him away from the inside out, and by the end, I no longer recognised the man I had idolised. He began to drink far too much, to spend time away from home, doing the gods only know what. But him being away was not the worst thing. Him being home, now that was the worst. He took out all his anger on my mother and younger brother, hurting them for no reason. Punishing them for crimes that appeared to only exist in his mind. The only reason I avoided his wrath was because the first time he hit me, I stabbed him with a small blade that I had stolen from him. And despite my young age, after that, he never came near me again. I did all I could to protect my brother and mother. I would ply him with drink until he was incapable of raising his hand. I would hide my brother in places that I knew the old sot wouldn't be able to find in his wildest dreams." (Y/n) began, as she took another drink. Laying her head back on the chair and closing her eyes as if able to see the whole scene unfold in every last terrible detail.

"But one day, when my father had gone, my mother sent me out to check the traps that we had laid for the rabbits. I remember that it was a beautiful day. The weather warm, and even the birds were singing happily in the trees. I had managed to retrieve a few rabbits, and for once I had a spring in my step as I made my way home, knowing that we would be eating well that evening. But as I got closer to our little house, something inside me told me that there was something wrong. That things would never be the same again. As I made it to the door of our house, I could smell blood in the air. A smell that wasn't coming from the rabbits in my bag. Slowly, I pushed open the door, only to find myself greeted by a sight that I have never forgotten. There, on the floor, covered in blood, lay my mother and brother, my father standing over them with his sword in his hand. As he turned around, I saw something in his eyes, something that was no longer human. I recall that I wanted to scream, to run over and attack him. But instead, something pushed me outside. An unseen force that guided me back towards the woods. I ran and ran. I don't know how long for, but as I eventually stopped, I found myself before an old idol that had been set up by some ancient people many moons before. I dropped to my knees, tears rolling down my cheeks as images of the horrific scene flashed before my eyes. It was then that I prayed to the dark lord, beseeching him to kill my father. To burn him for all eternity for what he had done. In exchange, I offered myself. I offered to be his weapon." (Y/n) continued. Bronn finding that he could do nothing more than listen.

"As it got darker, I found myself drifting off to sleep. My dreams filled with an old man who offered me his hand and a sword. Both of which I accepted. Suddenly I woke, the aroma of smoke filling the air, as I felt compelled to return home. When I got there, what had once been a place that had been filled with love, was now nothing more than a pile of ashes. The chard remains of three bodies, laying in the middle of the carnage. I somehow found my way back to the idol, and there before it lay a sword and the mask, then covered in countless ancient silver symbols. I picked it up and brought it to my face. And from that moment I was no longer (Y/n), but the Dark Knight. The sword of the Lord of the Seven Hells." (Y/n) explained, as she finally finished the contents of her glass.

Bronn couldn't help but empathise. His childhood had not been anything that could possibly be described as idyllic. Both his parents had beaten him viciously, his mother even breaking his nose with an iron poker. An attack that had really been meant for his brother. And now (Y/n) story of her young life was making the sellsword realise that he and the Dark Knight had more things in common than just war and death.

"Do ya mind if I if I ask ya another question?" Bronn asked, as he refilled (Y/n)'s glass and handed it back to her.

"Well, as I have already told you most things, I can't imagine what else you would want to know. But, if you must, then ask away." (Y/n) replied, as she gratefully took the full glass back from Bronn.

"Ya said that ya didn't kill all men on tha battlefield. That ya killed some with sweet words and a warm embrace. What did ya mean by that?" Bronn enquired, trying his best to sound as innocent as possible.

"Oh. Please!" (Y/n) laughed, as she looked at the sellsword.

"Not for one minute do I believe that you have no idea what I mean. You are a man of the world, and I am sure that you yourself have made a pretty woman promises that you have no intention of keeping, just so that you can have your way with her. Sometimes the souls that the lord wants, cannot be found on the battlefield. Some of his victims have to be charmed with a seductive smile, and a heaving bosom. Some, like Joffrey, are cowards, that when faced with battle would end up shitting themselves before running from the scene. Personally, I would rather kill a man in a fight. I would rather run him through with my sword, chop him in two with an axe, or impale him with arrows. But sometimes death needs to be a little more subtle." (Y/n) informed him, as she turned her attentions from the sellsword to the fire next to them.

Bronn couldn't help wondering what the Dark Knight could be capable of. Sure that she could even teach him a thing or two. His mind momentarily wandering as he imagined her in his bed, writhing beneath him, as she gave him the experience of her long years.

He couldn't help but let a wicked grin creep across his lips as he watched the feared warrior continue to watch the flickering flames. Visions of what could possibly lay under the dark leather that covered her body, flashing before his eyes.

"When was tha last time that ya had a bad man?" Bronn suddenly blurted out, (Y/n) turning to look at him as he slowly got to his feet and leaned over her. His hands resting on the arms of her chair.

"Long enough. Why do you know a bad man around here that might be interested?" (Y/n) asked, as Bronn leant down further, his lips next to her ear as he whispered softly.

"I think you'll find that I am tha baddest man around ere. And you've already had my good wine. So how about ya take whatever else makes ya happy." Bronn cooed, as he carefully kissed the skin of (Y/n)'s neck.

"Well, bad man. Why don't you show me, just how very bad you can be?" (Y/n) chuckled. Bronn gasping as the Knight took his manhood roughly in her hand.

"It'll be my pleasure." Bronn informed her. As he led (Y/n) over to the bed.