Bronn's Return
Rowena had no idea how long she'd been locked away in Bronn's rooms during the battle, but she had finally fallen asleep at first rays of dawn. The noise outside had changed considerably. She had smelled burning wood, and another smell, which she knew was probably the sickening smell of burning flesh. There was yelling and screaming, but the blood-curdling screams of men were the worst, and at times she covered her ears and tried to hide under the furs on the bed to drown them out. When she woke, the noise had died down considerably, although there was a still a great deal of activity and she could hear excited voices coming from the streets. She took this as a sign that the city had not fallen, but felt a feeling of panic when she realized she had yet to receive any news about her sellsword.
Finally, she heard footsteps in the corrider and a very light knock on the door. She held her breath, not moving for a moment, and watched as she saw a shadow just outside and something being pushed underneath the door. She was sure she knew what it was, but tiptoed over as quietly as possible, reaching down to retrieve the lock of hair that Bronn had cut from her tresses before he left her. She had been forbidden to open the door to anyone or for any reason until she saw that lock of hair, and had been given no instructions on what to do if for some reason he did not return. He wouldn't consider the possibility, and she tried to do the same.
She unbolted the door with trembling anxious hands and pulled it open cautiously, stepping back and out of the way, just in case. She was relieved to see a very weary and battle worn Bronn standing in the doorway, and stood aside as he walked in, followed by the squire, who had been the last one to leave her.
She was not quite prepared for his appearance though. He was covered in mud, soot and sand. And blood, so much blood that she couldn't tell if any of it was his, but he did not appear to have any serious injuries as she watched him walk into the room. She saw scratches and flecks of blood on his face and hands, but no sign of serious wounds. He was not wearing armor, of course, so he slumped, exhausted, into the nearest chair.
Finally turning his eyes to her, he looked relieved and almost sad. She ran towards him, wanting to throw herself at him, but he put up a hand to keep her at arms length, shaking his head no. Even at that distance she could now see that he was covered nearly head to toe in filth and blood, smelling of burnt ashes, and the odor she recognized as blood.
He rubbed his forehead for a moment and then putting his hand under his chin, his elbow resting on the table, turned his full attention on Rowena.
"Why are you still wearing that dress?" He asked her, irritation evident in his weary voice.
"It's the only dress I ha—" Rowena broke off in mid-sentence, now remembering the last words he'd said to her.
"When I return" he'd said, "And I WILL return…I expect you to be waiting for me, naked, and at my command."
She blushed now and looked at the squire. Bronn gave her a slightly annoyed look, turned to the squire and ordered him to leave. As soon as the squire exited the room, closing the door behind him, Bronn turned back to Rowena, looking at her expectantly, and impatiently.
She did not dare to hesitate under that gaze, pulling the dress off of her shoulders until it slid to the floor in a swirl of fabric at her feet, leaving her completely naked in front of him. He didn't smile, but he looked satisfied with her at least. He gazed at her for a long moment, admiring her from head to toe, and then got up and walked to the door, drawing the bolt across it once again.
"Are you injured?" Rowena finally managed to speak, hesitantly, still having no idea what his temper or mood was like yet.
"Nothing that will kill me," he replied casually, with a dry smile. "And the city is safe…for now."
Rowena breathed a sigh of relief, as her body began to tremble under his gaze, and in the cold air of the early morning.
He didn't speak but stood up and walked over to the bed, motioning for her to come to him. She tried to walk casually, gracefully, but she was nervous and trembling violently now. She was filled with fear and anticipation, a combination she was becoming used to, but did not think once to disobey him.
"Come," he said, again motioning with his arm, guiding her to stand next to the bed, but not actually touching her. She was now facing the side of the bed, with her legs pressed against it, feeling the soft fur against her bare legs. He moved behind her now, and placed a hand on the middle of her back, between her shoulder blades.
"Bend forward," he commanded, "and reach your hands across to the other side."
She did as she was told, folding her body across the bed, stretching her arms out in front of her as far as she could, almost reaching the opposite side of the bed. For a moment he said nothing, and she thought he must be just admiring the view of her in this position. Her face was growing warm, but she was also feeling that now familiar tingling throughout the rest of her body, and she tried to breathe deeply and slowly, in a vain attempt to calm her nerves.
She heard him untying the laces of his britches, and then felt his nakedness pressing against her, and the feel of his skin against hers was both unexpected and exhilirating. He did not touch her with his hands there as he had before. She realized it was because he was so filthy from battle that he was trying to touch her as little as possible. Then she could feel him slowly pushing his hips forward. He told her to spread her feet apart, until she could feel him easing into her from behind. She gasped at this feeling that was not completely new to her, but it was an all new experience to feel his cock sliding into her, unlike the leather handled dagger. His flesh mixing together with hers was the most intense thing she'd ever felt. She was finally experiencing what she had instinctively wanted that night in the brothel,
He started out slowly, just as he had before, and just as she was getting used to the strange new feeling of having a man inside of her, he began to thrust more vigorously. And she cried out at the sudden shock of how her body stretched to accommodate him. It was painful to an extent, but mostly just strange and uncomfortable at first. But she realized now she would endure anything for his man, who had just risked his life and seen horrors she could probably not imagine. And the pain was quickly becoming mixed and replaced with feelings of pleasure, as he moved harder and faster, pounding his hips against her over and over. She cried out with each powerful thrust, but at the same time, felt herself tilting her hips up and back and willingly pushing back against him.
He almost sounded as if he was in pain, too, and before very long, he gave a loud low groan as he slammed into her and then went back to easing himself in and out of her very slowly. They were both breathing heavily, and after a few more moments, he became still, leaning his body over hers and resting against her. Breathing heavily, they stayed like that for several long moments, both forgetting how filthy he and his clothing were.
Stand up and turn around, he ordered. And as she did, he took a step back and practically fell into the chair, satiated and exhausted. He was leaning back observing her, again as if she was some strange creature he'd never seen before, taking in every inch of her nude body with great admiration.
"Did I please you, my lord?" She asked meekly, feeling quite vulnerable and exposed, but not wanting to disappoint him for anything in the world.
He managed a smile, tho the weary sadness had returned to his eyes. "Sit", he said gently. She sat in front of him, her knees tightly pressed together, wanting to cover her naked breasts with her arms, but knowing somehow that he would object.
"Yes, love, you have more than pleased me," he said, with real tenderness in his eyes, still smiling. "But I'm afraid I still cannot have you as I would like."
The squire had returned to knock at the door. Bronn nodded towards the door, and Rowena jumped up to open it, then hesitated, as she glanced back at her dress on the floor, andn then back to Bronn. He merely shook his head, and she bowed her head, and went to the door as she was, unbolting it to let the squire in. The poor young squire was obviously not expecting a naked Rowena to open the door for him, and quickly averted his eyes as he stepped past her to address Bronn.
"They are waiting for us in the throne room," he said, the embarrassment obvious on his red face. "There is no time for any of us to bathe or get fresh clothing."
Rowena was confused and looked to Bronn for an explanation.
"Looks like you will soon be the wife of a knight, m'lady" he said to her with mock arrogance, and smiled smugly. Rowena had barely caught the knight reference, too distracted by the mention of the word 'wife'.
He stood now and walked close to her, still not touching her except to brush the hair away from her face. He smiled at her bewildered look and laughed. "But you will still call me 'my lord', won't you?" He asked teasingly. Rowena breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. He was here, he was alive, he was overall unharmed, and not only was he going to be knighted, it seemed, but planned to make her his wife. It was all very overwhelming, and the relief and joy she felt had her near tears.
"I must go now," he said, sounding disappointed, "but I will be back, and you should be ready for all of the things that I will do to you as my wife, and all of the things you will learn to do for me."
Rowena felt the familiar stirrings in her body and wanted to throw her arms around him but knew that he wouldn't let her. Still fighting the urge to cover herself, she tucked her hands beneath her legs, bowed her head to him and whispered, "Yes, my lord."
This earned her a wicked grin and look of satisfaction from him, and as always, she basked in his approval. "Get some rest," he said, leaning in to kiss her lightly on the forehead. "I have plans for you later."
"Yes, my lord," she repeated, smiling herself now, as a shiver of excitement went all the way thru her body. And then he was gone, with the squire following close behind. Rowena bolted the door behind them, and then collapsed on the bed, wrapping herself in the fur, suddenly realizing how exhausted she was herself. She could still feel where he had been inside of her, realizing that he had come back for one reason and one reason only, to make good on his promise, even though he had so little time. But that small amount of time would keep her mind and body on edge even as she drifted to sleep, re-playing the whole scene in her head over and over again….
