Valla
„Who exactly is this Valla? Not that I'm complaining..." Bronn asked the girl. She was sitting in front of him on the back of a small horse lent by the stone crows. She was propably still pouting because she had to share the horse with him. Shagga was more likely to believe she was a goddess when she was protected by a warrior which meant she couldn't ride alone, Tyrion had argued. And she still needed sleep. Rebekah had accepted under protest and with gritted teeth. Bronn wondered why Tyrion trusted him so much with her. Maybe it was meant as a tease to have her slender body pressed against him, the top of her head reaching his chin.
-"They choose people to symbolize their gods. Like their leaders for example being a warrior gods. I think Valla is more like the Maiden. We are lucky they see her in me." Her voice sounded weak, and Bronn felt she was leaning more and more into him, letting herself support by his arms.
After a while, the girl was sleeping, her head laying on his shoulder. He could even smell her hair, scenting of pines and forest.
Oddly, she was quite trusting although she seemed so mutinous before. Tyrion rode next to them on one of those small, almost pony-like horses. „What do you intent to do with the lady here when we arrive at your father's camp? I don't think it's a better place for her."
Tyrion tilted his head „Lord Tywin likes her, don't worry."
-„Oh, I do not worry, halfman."
-„Still thinking of selling her to the highest bidder?"
Bronn laughed at Tyrion's remark. „Well, the hill tribes would love to have their Valla for their own."
Tyrion laughed as well. „It's not every day someone gets mistaken with a goddess. It's the red hair, they call it being kissed by fire."
Rebekah shifted slightly in the saddle and Bronn tightened his grip around her waist. „What? You don't want your precious friend to fall of the horse." He said with an apologetical look to Tyrion. His glance darkened. „I think you're enjoying this too much, Bronn."
„When we arrive in the camp full of soldiers, I won't be the only one enjoying her presence, m'lord." Bronn's word made Tyrion shiver. Rebekah was under his protection, and he would never forgive himself if something happened to her.
-„And I'll be happy to pay you even more for her safety as well, my dear."
-„Get her a strong husband, it would be far easier." Bronn suggested, feeling the regular deep breaths of the sleeping woman against his chest.
-„The problem is that Lord Mycah wants to marry her to a too strong husband." Tyrion's tone was bitter as he continued. „Lady Rebekah had other reasons to run away from her stepfather, one of them being the planned betrothal to one of my father's bannermen. Ser Gregor Clegane, precisely."
Bronn raised his eyebrows. Wedding the Mountain was a death sentence for someone like Lady Rebekah.
„Does Lord Mycah want to murder her?" he asked and Tyrion grimaced „He's not known for his loving character, let's put it that way." Bronn suspected more behind this story, but an important rule as common sell sword was to never ask to many questions.