Chapter 4

Sansa slipped past the guards just outside the doors to the main hall, desperate to get back out to the garden. She had been forced to spend the morning with Cersei and her ladies and it had been nothing but three hours of barbed comments in her direction about her lack of sexual exploits with her new husband. She couldn't stand it, and decided that there wasn't too much of a risk going out on her own.

She let out a sigh of relief when she stepped in between the massive hedges, taking solace in the feeling of anonymity for a brief while.

After a few silent filled minutes of walking, she became vaguely aware of the fact that what she was doing was dangerous, but she honestly didn't care much at that moment. However, she did feel a brief pang of regret at the fact that Bronn wasn't there. She had unexpectedly become accustomed to the callous sellsword's presence and just the thought of him brought a soft smile to her lips. He hid it well, but he was actually quite pleasant to be around when he wasn't around other people, and she liked that about him.

It felt almost strange to be out alone, now that she thought about it. She was never able to go anywhere alone anymore because of how closely Bronn had been watching her and how often Shae had been escorting her, and so it was a foreign sensation to be without an escort of any kind…but also freeing. Refreshing, even.

Sansa took her time, savoring the moment, walking slowly and enjoying the flowers as she did. Moments of serenity like these within the walls of King's Landing were, for her, rare, and so she took full advantage of them, basking in the illusion of being free from her massive prison. Her pace picked up, however, when she saw that not even other people were wandering the garden that she was in, and soon she took off at an un-ladylike pace between the hedges, holding her skirt a bit higher so that she didn't trip and fall. It was exhilarating, to say the least, and she almost felt like an innocent thirteen year-old-girl again who had just arrived in the South, instead of a broken just-turned-fifteen-year-old who longed to be back up North.

However, she slowed down when she heard voices nearby, through the sculpted bushes that lined the ever weaving paths. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but they seemed familiar. Disturbingly so. A strange feeling settled in her stomach as she heard the voices slowly get louder and therefore closer. They were headed her way. But then, one of the two began to sound more distant, and she knew that that was the one that was leaving and no longer worrisome, but at the sound of the second pair of footsteps, she knew the other one was headed in her direction. Her nerves getting the better of her, she turned around to head back the way she came.

She heard the voice even clearer, though, this time, and she suddenly recognized whose it was.

It was Joffrey's.

No.

Not him.

Anyone but him.

The last time that she'd been alone with him, he'd nearly…Sansa shook her head. She couldn't think about it, not now. She quickly poured all of her energy into finding a place where she could hide and wait for him to pass. She could not be alone with him. She just couldn't.

As her mind raced, her eyes scanning the impregnable hedges around her, she suddenly realized why Bronn had been keeping an eye on her; in case something like this happened. Damnit, she silently cursed to herself, becoming more and more frantic with each passing second. Why did the sellsword have to be right? She picked up her pace, her nerves getting the better of her when she heard Joffrey's steps pick up behind her.

He didn't know she was there; not yet, anyway, and she tried to always stay several yards away from him around several extra turns and bends in the hedges. Luckily, she had become more familiar with them over the past few weeks, so she had some chance of finding a place to hide.

She kept on looking, her breath starting to come in short, panicked gasps when she realized that she couldn't find a place to hide. The hedges were impossible to get through, and there were no small enough breaks for her to slip through to the other side. She closed her eyes for a brief second, taking a deep breath…

…and then nearly screamed when she felt a firm hand wrap over her mouth and a strong arm wrap around her waist, dragging her back into a darkened corner of the maze-like garden.

She attempted to struggle, but the lock on her was tight and secure, and she felt nothing but hardened muscle beneath the clothes that she attempted to grab at for leverage. She finally looked to see who her attacker was out of the corner of her eye, and was shocked to see that it was Bronn, the very man who was supposed to protect her.

He saw her panicked and confused look and pressed his lips to her ear, his hot breath brushing over it as he said, in a very low and serious tone, "You make a sound, one single bloody sound, the boy will find us and use us as he sees fit, like the mad king he is. Now, if I remove my hand, will you keep quiet?"

Her eyes still wide, she nodded.

"Good. Now, then," he added softly as he dropped his hand, his left arm still tight around her waist and mouth still pressed the shell of her ear. "We're going to stay here until the cunt passes. Understood?" Sansa nodded a second time, taking small breaths, trying to calm her shaking nerves. "Good girl," he muttered in return.

How had the sellsword moved so silently? How had she not noticed him following her?

"Good girl," he repeated a second time into her ear.

Those questions, and more, swirled around in her mind, desperate to leave her lips, but she remained quiet, just as he'd asked, and watched with baited breath as Joffrey walked right past them, completely unaware of the two people in the corner who stared at him as he walked by. Sansa's gaze was one of fear and a touch of revulsion, but Bronn's was filled with nothing but pure disgust at the sight of the incestuous bastard. For some strange reason, his look made her feel safe, so she leaned back into him a bit more than was strictly necessary.

Bronn continued to hold her for a minute longer than after Joffrey had left, and then slowly let her go.

The instant she was out of his grasp, however, he snapped his hand around her wrist and dragged her to him so that there was barely any space between them, front to front, his eyes practically level with hers, and he hissed, "What the hell were you thinking, going off on your own, you stupid girl? Do you not realize how many people in King's Landing would love to cut off your pretty little head, milady?" Even when he was angry with her, he called her milady. "I'll not go to your husband and tell him that because you fancied a stroll through the garden without an escort, that I got you killed, or worse," he leered, and she could read between the lines on those words. "…Because he would put it on me."

Sansa suddenly found herself more scared in that moment than she had been when she had heard Joffrey on the same path. He was practically shaking with anger, and she was shaking with fear at realizing just how close it had been.

"I…I'm sorry, Bronn. I just, I just….I've been feeling so…suffocated," she finally managed to stutter out, still pressed tightly against him, and he suddenly let her go, almost shoving her away from him, and then placed his left hand on the pommel of his sword, propping his other one on his hip.

He then gave her a long, inscrutable look and said enigmatically, "Your husband's right."

Sansa shook her head, confused.

"Right about what?"

The sellsword smirked at her, but in an almost derisive manner, that held no humor in it and she ducked her eyes at the look. For some reason, it made her feel exposed, and she didn't like it. She stared at the ground beneath her feet, instead, and then snapped her eyes back up to his at his next words.

"You need to know how to defend yourself."

Her eyes widened.

"What? No. No, I don't. That, that's what you're here for and what our alliance is for, and I'll never go out on my own again, I swear it! I'll, I'll take Shae with me whenever I'm not with you and I'll not go out as often and I'll, I'll…"

He shook his head and gave her the same look as before as he said, "Shae is no more a maidservant than I am a bodyguard, milady. Given the opportunity, she would sell you out in a single breath. I would too, probably," he admitted, tilting his head. "Given the right monetary incentive, of course. But, until that day comes, I will do as our alliance asks and as my employer asks and keep you safe. Your husband suggested that I teach you how to fight, so that's what I'm goin' to do."

Sansa stood there in shock, not quite believing what he had just said, and then tentatively asked, "But, but…where…how would we….?"

He smiled deviously.

"Oh, I know a place, don't worry 'bout that. I'll teach you a thing or two about defending yourself," he added, taking a step towards her, closing the distance between them once more. "When I'm through with you, you'll be able to castrate any poor sod who tries to touch you."

He arched an eyebrow at her as she blushed at his crass words and then, uncharacteristically, offered his arm to her.

"Shall we go then, Lady Sansa?"

Giving him a tentative smile, she nodded, and took his arm, letting him escort her from the gardens. She had her fingers wrapped tightly around his forearm and couldn't help but notice, once more, that there was nothing but solid flesh beneath her fingertips. He was stronger than most men, she knew, and even though she had been escorted in such a way before, never before had she felt so…protected. Her smile didn't leave her lips as they walked back to the palace.

As they arrived at her and Tyrion's quarters, he released her and gave her a short, half-bow, and then a nod and a wink as she slipped into the room.

Long after she knew he was gone, she stood inside the closed door, her fingers pressed against the wood.

She was going to learn how to fight.

Suddenly, she felt a surge of hope fill her at the thought, instead of fear. What would it feel like to not be afraid? What would it feel like to be able to hear Joffrey's footsteps and not have her insides turn into a flock of ravens? To be able to defend herself…Yes. That was what she wanted. And she had never felt more reassured in her life that Bronn was the one who was going to teach her.

She was going to learn how to fight.

Part 4/?