Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book three

Dark Knight - Part 6 - Bronn x Reader

Bronn had watched as the Knight stood behind Joffrey. He had seen the Hound move a number of times to hold the Knight back. It obvious that (Y/n) was not happy about the horrendous child boasting and scoffing about having the feared warrior watch over him. About how they had bowed, though it being reluctantly, to him. That he deserved respect because he was king. That there was no need for him to fight to gain that reverence. It was a given. The words he spoke. The bile with which he spoke them, obviously cutting deep into (Y/n).

He could only imagine the look on her face. That beautiful face that hide behind that accursed mask. The mask with only one symbol left on it. He was sure her features held nothing but anger and hatred. Nothing but contempt. Not that he, or anyone else for that matter would be able to blame the Dark Knight for feeling as she did.

Bronn had to admit one thing though, he was happy that the death of the odious Joffrey, had not been one of those cases where she had to take him to her bed. The sellsword sure that the (Y/n) would rather die herself, than have to lay with a creature like the idiotic boy. Though it did make him wonder about what the manner of Joffrey's death would be. If he was not to die by the Dark Knight's sword, then what? Would it be Tyrion that finally did for his nephew? Bronn sure that he wouldn't blame the little lord if he did, given the way Joffrey treated him. Would it be Sandor? The Hound no longer able to take the boy kings insults. Joffrey finding himself on the end of the big man's sword. Perhaps an unknown, unnamed assailant. But in truth, whoever it was, Bronn didn't really care. Sure, that not many people would shed a tear when Joffrey lost his life.

As Joffrey had finally dismissed (Y/n) for the evening. The king cooing over Margaery, as he closed the door to his rooms. Bronn had followed after the Knight. Walking into her rooms, as she smashed the large mirror in front of her with her fist. (Y/n) turning to look at the sellsword, as he closed the door behind him. The murderous look in her eyes speaking volumes.

"How has no one killed that creature before? I have slaughtered wicked and evil men that had more integrity and honour in their little fingers that that......boy, has in his whole body. It is hard to believe that anyone would allow that monster to have lived for as long as he has. The way he speaks to others. The way he treats them. How he demands respect. A true king would never do any of those things................." (Y/n) shouted, as she ripped the mask from her face, and threw it across the room. The thing hitting the opposite wall with such ferocity that Bronn was surprised when it hadn't smash into a thousand tiny pieces.

"No wonder the Lord of the Seven Hells wants him. If there were not other plans, I would have already dispatched that little shit and happily taken on that bitch of a mother of his, and the entire Baratheon, Lannister army." The Knight added, as she stormed over to a small table upon which stood a decanter of wine. (Y/n) pouring herself a glass which was downed in one gulp.

Bronn couldn't blame her for feeling as she did. He had never met anyone that had had a good word to say about Joffrey, well, not behind his back anyway. He was an odious little fucker that had been spoilt by his mother to the point that he believed that the world owed him anything and everything that he wanted. And when that damn crown had been put on his head, it had just got worse. If that was possible. He had seen how Joffrey had treated not only Tyrion, but his mother, grandfather and his other uncle. How he would treat Sandor. Sansa Stark. And anyone else that did not kowtow to his demands. And he knew, that even though (Y/n) had told him that the boy was not to die by her hand, if he pushed her much more, the plans might just change.

"Ya shouldn't listen ta him, (Y/n). It ain't worth it. Look at Sandor. He knows ta ignore Joffrey. Ta be honest, I'm surprised he's lasted this long without running the little prick through. The gods only know that he must have thought about it more than once. And ya know that ya don't have to serve him fa too long before............." Bronn began, as he came up behind the Dark Knight. The sellsword placing his hand on her shoulder. The rest of his words unable to escape his mouth, as (Y/n) turned and crashed her lips into his. Her now ungloved hands pulling at his clothes.

"I need you Bronn. I need the baddest man in Kings Landing. I want to enjoy what little life I might have left, before Joffrey dies. I want to drink, fight and fuck until I can't do any of them anymore. To live every last second that I have to come. I want to leave this world, and not regret anything. I don't want to think that there was something that I didn't do. And I know that there is only one man that can help me do that. Only one man that I want to do that with. And that's you. I don't want to think about that petulant child. I don't want to think of the Dark Knight, or the last accursed symbol on that mask. I just want to be (Y/n). I want you to take the clothes from me and carry me to that bed. I want you to fuck me like you have never fucked a woman before. And then, when we are finished, I want you to do it again. Can you do that for me?" (Y/n) asked, as she finally pulled herself away from Bronn. The sellsword combing his rough, weathered fingers through her long hair.

"It'll be my pleasure................."