The Day of Hearts. That special day of the year when love seemed to overcome everything. The day when battles and war were never fought. The day when disagreements and anger were forgotten.
It was a day when men, from the humblest smallfolk to the mightiest lord would do their best to make the woman they loved, feel like a queen. A day when women would make their men feel like a king. When the young would ask for the hands of the one they loved, and the old would sit and reminisce about the ups and downs of their life together. But to (Y/n) it was complete hokum, and she couldn't wait for the whole thing to be over, so that people would regain their senses and life would get back to normal.
(Y/n) had never been one for all this romance rubbish. She had never had time for it. Along with her older brother, Bronn, (Y/n) had never experienced that emotion between her parents. She had never really admitted to giving it a passing thought, as she had struggled and fought alongside her brother to survive in the world. Seeing her trusted sword and bow as the only loves of her life.
Being a sellsword had never really leant itself to (Y/n) being the kind of woman that men would look at with anything but fear. And her brother's antics with the fairer sex had made her question whether anything like love could actually exist. For she had listened to Bronn, as they sat in a tavern, tell some silly little thing that he loved her just so that he could share a warm bed, and body for the night, so many times, that (Y/n) believed that men would tell a woman anything if it meant that they had their needs taken care of.
Normally (Y/n) would find other things to preoccupy her on the Day of Hearts. Other things so that she could leave her brother to his conquests. But now that they were in Kings Landing, there seemed no way to escape the damn day. And (Y/n), much to her brother's amusement, couldn't help but grumble.
The great Red Keep was decorated for the coming day of love's celebrations. And wherever she went in the city, there seemed to be similar celebrations planned. Resulting in the only respite (Y/n) could find, being in either her own rooms, Bronn's, or Tyrion's. The rooms of the little lion, being the place she found herself now.
"Bronn. I swear to the gods if I have to listen to you talk about love any more, I am going to run you through. We both know that you couldn't possibly love anyone more than you love yourself. And the only place that you and Tyrion will be tomorrow, is at one of the many brothels you frequent, paying for that so called "love". (Y/n) scoffed. As Tyrion poured her another glass of wine.
"Come on (Y/n). There must be man in Kings Landing that has caught ya eye. I don't want my sister dying a maid. If ya like, I'm sure that Baelish has a nice young man available, that would be prepared ta close his eyes and pretend ya were something pretty." Bronn chuckled as he looked over the top of his glass. Watching as his sister's hand moved down to the hilt of her dagger.
He knew that he shouldn't tease (Y/n). He knew that if he wanted to see the next morning, he should probably apologise. But this was how they were with one another. This was how they had always been with one another. And a habit was a hard thing to break. Though in truth, Bronn thought that his younger sister was the most precious thing in the world. She had been the only thing that he could rely on. The only one that had stood with him through everything. And even though he would never admit it to her, he dreaded losing her. Over the years, unbeknownst to (Y/n), she had had more than her fair share of suitors. More than her fair share of men wishing to tell her that she was the one they wanted. But Bronn had gone out of his way to make sure that these suitors never got close enough. Yet in Kings Landing, no matter what he did, there always seemed to be another perspective love, hiding around the corner. And he knew that he couldn't prevent (Y/n) from realising that men wanted her, any longer.
"That's it. I am not listening to your snide comments any longer." (Y/n) growled, as she got up from her chair, banging her glass down on the table next to her. The deep red liquid sploshing over the dark wooden surface.
"I will have you know that I would never lower myself to paying for it like you do. Because if that is love, I don't want anything to do with it." (Y/n) continued, as she made for the door. Turning one last time to glare at her brother.
"Don't come and bother me until this ridiculous celebration is over." (Y/n) growled again, before slamming the door behind her. Tyrion looking over at Bronn, who for once seemed to actually look guilty.
"You know that you can't lock her away any longer. I am sure that tomorrow some man will tell her how he feels. And there will be nothing that you can do." Tyrion said as he took a sip of his wine, the little lion knowing that Bronn had done all his could to protect her from men that he deemed unworthy.
"Yeah. We'll see. I would rather she died a maid than waste er love on a man that didn't deserve er." Bronn sniffed, as he downed the contents of his glass.
"A man that didn't deserve her? From what I've seen, you will never think that any man deserves her. Not even a man like me." Tyrion said, chuckling behind his glass as Bronn glared at him.
"Ya even think about it, and ya will end up shorter than ya already are." Bronn replied. Not even liking the little lord joking about it. Tyrion unable to hold back his laughter at the sellswords protests. The youngest lion knowing that there was someone in the Keep that had every intention of telling (Y/n) how he felt when the Day of Hearts arrived.
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Sandor normally hated the Day of Hearts. He saw little point to it. It seemed like a waste of a good days fighting, and usually he would spend the celebrations locked away in his rooms drinking until he passed out, or down at one of the brothels paying for the attention of some nameless woman. But all that was before (Y/n) had come to Kings Landing with her brother. And now the big man had actually begun to believe that there might be something behind all this love thing. He wasn't known for being warm and romantic. In fact, he wasn't really knowing for anything but his pessimistic outlook on life, and his rough gruff demeanour. But there was something about the female sellsword that made his usually quiet heart, beat rapidly whenever he set eyes on her.
(Y/n) was impressive in more ways than one. She wasn't only beautiful; she was also fearsome. Exceptionally deadly with a sword and bow. And even though she had a similar sarcastic nature as her brother, (Y/n) seemed to do it in a way that Sandor found endearing.
He had found himself watching (Y/n) whenever she was stood by her brother's side. Found himself smiling when she walked by. And this unusual change in the Hound's demeanour hadn't gone unnoticed by the ever observant Tyrion. The youngest Lannister taking it upon himself to convince the formidable warrior that the Day of Hearts would be the perfect time to tell the female sellsword that he cared for her. That despite (Y/n) appearing to have the same thoughts on the day as Sandor did, a passionate heart beat under all that leather armour that (Y/n) wore. And all she needed was the right man to break it free.
Now, the Hound was mentally preparing himself to do what he had never done before. Open his heart. And all he could do was hope that (Y/n) wouldn't turn around and throw it back in his face.
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(Y/n) stood at her window, looking out onto the great expanse of the dark city. The all invasive darkness broken sporadically by the flaming torches that dotted the buildings of the capital. At this very moment she hated Bronn. Deep down she knew that he hadn't meant what he said. That despite how Bronn appeared to the rest of the world, to (Y/n) he was her rock. The only family that she could count on, even though he could be an untrustworthy shit. But this time his words had hurt.
It wasn't that her eye had never fallen on handsome men over the years. That her thoughts had never gone to a life filled with love. But she always reasoned that Bronn needed her. That after all they had been through together, it wasn't right that they could be parted. And that Bronn was probably right, that no man would give her a second glance. But coming to Kings Landing, (Y/n) had begun to hope that that would no longer be the case. And then she had met Sandor.
To many women, the Hound may not be the first choice for love. Not the first one that your eye would fall on if all the men in Kings Landing were lined up. He was rough and tough, mean and gruff. And most of the time he seemed to sneer or growl, rather than speak. But to (Y/n), he was greater than what he showed the world. More than just the Hound. Yet as she dropped unceremoniously onto her simple bed, (Y/n) doubted that the big man even knew she existed. The female sellsword closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep knowing that she would spend another Day of Hearts, and indeed, another year, alone.
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Kings Landing was filled with the sounds of happiness. The air thick with the heavy scent of perfume and flower petals. The Red Keep was abuzz with activity as the servant rushed around making final preparations for the celebrations that were soon to begin. And even though Bronn had knocked on her door more than once during the day, (Y/n) had refused to open it. Still annoyed at what her brother had said the night before. Quietly she sat in her rooms, the heavy curtains that covered the window closed firmly so that she didn't have to look out onto the festivities. If she could just make it through the next few hours, she could get back to the idea of needing nothing more than her weapons by her side. If she could ignore the sounds of music and laughter that would soon fill the castle, she could fool herself for another year that her brother was the only man that she needed in her life.
"Go away, Bronn! I told ya, I ain't coming out. Get it through that thick, ugly head a yours. I AIN'T COMING OUT!" (Y/n) called out. Angry that Bronn would yet again come to her door despite how many times she had already told him to leave her alone. The anger in her growing as another louder bang came from the other side of the door.
"I said, GO AWAY!" (Y/n) shouted, as she threw open the door. Ready to make her brother regret the day he was born. Her eyes growing wide as they fell on Sandor. The Hound looking slightly sheepish as he stood in the doorway, dressed in his best clothes.
"Oh....er, Sandor. I er.........I thought that ya were Bronn. My apologises. I don't know where he or Tyrion are, if ya looking fa em." (Y/n) apologised. Not sure why the big man would be at her door.
"I er......" Sandor began, feeling more nervous than he had ever felt in his entire life. The look of (Y/n) in apparently nothing more than a simple shirt, sending his thoughts racing.
"I ain't er fa them. I was wantin ta talk ta you. Ta ask ya if ya would come ta the celebration with me." Sandor continued. Reaching out to take the hand of the shocked (Y/n). The female sellsword not sure what to think.
"Why......why would ya want me ta go with ya? I ain't tha type ta take ta a Day a Hearts celebration." (Y/n) reasoned, stepping back slightly as Sandor entered her room. Closing the door behind him.
"Cos......cos I think ya tha most beautiful woman that I ever lay eyes on. And even though I know I don't deserve ya. That I ain't anything ta look at. I think that you and I could be good together." Sandor confessed. The two warriors not quite sure what else to say. Both unfamiliar with the current situation.
"Sandor. Look at me." (Y/n) finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. Her hand reaching up and touching the scared side of his face.
"I ain't really one for celebrations. I don't like all that noise and pretence. But if ya mean what ya say. And ya do think that I am beautiful. Why don't you and I have a celebration of our own and see if we can really be good together." (Y/n) said with a wry smile. Both she and Sandor having a feeling that this was going to be the first Day of Hearts of many more to come. As the Hound and the sellsword shared their first loving kiss.