Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book three

Dance of Love - Part 2 - Bronn x Reader

For storyreaderslife

Tywin impatiently drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair. The room was full of eligible young lords and ladies, the celebration already underway. Yet still, there was no sight of the old lion's younger daughter. Tywin not liking the idea that some other girl would attract the eyes of those men that he judged to be the best; those who were from a suitably strong House. Those whose fathers were powerful, or rich enough, to be deemed worthy of the hand of his daughter.

"Where is your sister............?" Tywin growled softly. Jaime, Cersei and Tyrion, looking at one another for a moment, before turning to their father.

In truth, none of them had seen their sister, which was unusual. (Y/n) normally seeking out her siblings during the day, spending time with Jaime and Cersei, before making her way to find Tyrion, with whom she would spend many an evening. Yet today, today none of them had caught the slightest glimpse of her. Not that Tyrion was surprised, given the times that he and (Y/n) had spoken about this moment. Spoken about whom she would end up being married to. Her brother always doing his best to assure her that their father would not allow her to be wed to someone that would harm her; but, given that Cersei had found herself married to a man that would rather drink and whore himself into a stupor, than spend time with her or the children, Tyrion was never surprised that his sister continued to have concerns.

"I will go and find her............." Cersei said quietly, as she began to get to her feet. Stopping, as her father took her wrist.

"We will have one of the guards go to her room. We are not waiting............." Tywin interrupted. The rest of his rant cut off, as the doors to the hall were opened. The crowd falling silent, as into the room, walked the lioness.

                                                             >>---------------------------------<<

Bronn stood, leaning against one of the great stone pillars, a full glass in his hand. Just like everyone else, he was waiting for the younger lioness to appear. It obvious from the look on old Tywin's face, that he wasn't too happy that his daughter was making everyone........making him, wait. But the sellsword knew that the moment couldn't be postponed forever. That sooner or later, (Y/n) would make her entrance, and he would have to watch, as she danced with any young lord that her father thought was good enough; thought would be able to increase his power or wealth, if an alliance was formed. And he.........he would have to stand by and watch as he lost her forever.

He knew that she didn't want this, she had spent enough time with her brother telling him of her concerns. That she knew that she would end up just like their sister, married to a man that did want to know her. Neither feeling anything for the other, but disdain. Bronn only able to sit there and remain quiet, as Tyrion had done his best to assure her that their father would not marry her off to a man that would hurt her, harm her. That (Y/n) was not Cersei; that her husband would not be like Robert. Yet the sellsword couldn't help but wonder. Couldn't help but feel as concerned about all this, as (Y/n) did. Bronn well aware of the Hand's opinions on women, even his own daughters. The sellsword also knowing that no man would ever be good enough for the lady that he had come to love. But that by the end of the evening, when the music of the dance of love filled the space, the man with whom she danced, was almost guaranteed to be the one that would at some future date, place her under the cloak of his House.

Suddenly the room seemed the fall silent. Bronn following the gaze of those around him, to the doors to the room; his heart beating at a pace, as he saw the lioness slowly make her way into the room and move over to where the other members of her family, sat. She looked breathtaking, not that Bronn had expected anything else, he had never seen (Y/n) look anything but amazing; but tonight, tonight she was stunning. Her hair, her clothing, it obvious that the old lion had given her ladies instructions on how he wished his child to appear. The murmur that went around those assembled in the large room, indicating to Bronn, that he wasn't the only one to think that the lioness was a great prize.

                                                             >>---------------------------------<<

(Y/n) walked through the corridors. She still wanted to turn around and go back to her rooms. A little part of her, even contemplating running away. But this was her duty. She was a lady, a lioness, and given that, duty had always lain heavily on her shoulders. The expectation that she would one day wed well, would be sold to a man that could offer her family the most, something she was well aware of. But since she had realised Bronn had come to mean so much to her, she had come to hate the notion of duty, of expectation. The lady wishing that she was anything but that, and that she could be free to choose a man that she cared for, not one who could offer her father the most. That she could tell her father that she was in love; that she didn't need this celebration to find a man. That there was already one that held her heart; only one that she wished to dance with at the end of the night. Yet (Y/n) knew better; knew that if she were to tell her father that she had feelings for the sellsword, and despite how good Bronn might be, her father would still, somehow, make him disappear. That, and why would the sellsword care about her, when he seemed to have his pick of women in Kings Landing. The lioness never fooling herself about Bronn. Never truly believing that he would bind himself in marriage to just one woman, let alone to her.

Too soon, she found herself in front of the doors to the hall. The guards bowing as they opened the ingress. All eyes turning to the lioness, as she slowly walked into the room, and made for where the rest of her family sat. (Y/n) unaware that one pair of eyes in particular were watching her. One pair of eyes that desired her more than most.