Chapter 5

The sellsword woke early and made his way through the palace, the Lady Sansa's training on his mind. Several days had passed since the incident in the garden, and he knew that if he was going to teach her how to defend herself, then he was going to need a safe place and the proper clothes. He knew the perfect place, already, so that wasn't a problem. What was the problem, however, was what she was wearing. She couldn't learn how to fight properly in a dress.

Letting out a soft groan, he made a detour to the laundry and swiped a few of the new recruit's clothes as well as some protective leathers and boots, knowing that they would fit her because of her stature. She was tall for a woman, and that would be a good thing in combat, as well as an asset in finding decent clothes for her to spar in. He felt no guilt as he stashed away three shirts and two pairs of pants into his own rucksack, knowing that the maids would chalk it up to laziness on the young men's part.

He slipped on down to the hidden court that was large enough for their purposes, as well as being right on the water, and smirked as looked around.

If no one could hear that woman scream, then no one would hear the two of them.

There were some trees just up the hill where he could not only hide the rucksack, but they were also dense enough that she could change her clothes without being seen. As he placed the bag under one of the leaning birches, he thought of the risk that he was taking by training her. So many things could go wrong.

Had Tyrion not requested it, he would have said no in a heartbeat, but he was giving him additional payments for each lesson that he gave to the lord's new wife, so he would do it. A bit of gold never hurt him, anyway.

Bronn made his way back to the palace, taking care to note what pathway was best to take to and from the hidden location, the one that would give them the least likely chance of being seen.

Too quickly for his tastes, he was making his way down the hallway to Tyrion and Sansa's chambers. As he approached the door, he saw the two guards standing outside, looking as they usually did; constipated. He snorted and then flashed a look at both of them as he said, "I'm here to escort the Lady Sansa. She's expecting me."

Actually, she wasn't, but they didn't know that, so he took advantage of it.

The guards gave him a look, obviously skeptical of Bronn's words, but he continued to stand there, feeling as confident as ever, one hand placed on the pommel of his sword. After a long moment, during which he knew he was under brutal scrutiny, the guard on the left tapped on the door and said, "Lady Lannister, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater is here to escort you. Shall we let him in?"

The sellsword couldn't help but feel a touch of arrogance at hearing himself addressed so properly by one of the guards. He knew that they resented the fact that he had been knighted, and being who he was, he took pleasure in their discomfort. At the same time, he couldn't help but be slightly amused at his title. Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. He wondered what his father would think of that title and if he would take any pleasure in knowing that his son was climbing the ranks in his own unique way.

He brushed it off when the door opened and the Stark girl appeared.

"Ser Bronn," she said formally, letting the door close behind her. "Thank you for arriving so promptly."

She lifted her hand and he saw what she was doing and hid a half-smile of amusement at her actions. Her words were almost cold, befitting someone more of Cersei's caliber than of Sansa's, but he saw the guards share a look of approval at her actions and Bronn had to clench his jaw to stop the smirk from appearing.

She was trying to keep the guards from becoming too interested in where she was going by giving them what they wanted, which was a cold and demanding demeanor that they were accustomed to from women of high standing.

He pressed his lips to her hand for a brief moment and then stood and offered his arm.

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"I am fully capable of walking on my own, Ser Bronn," she said, gathering her skirt in her hands. She walked ahead of him, saying over her shoulder to the guards, "Lord Tyrion knows of my whereabouts, but please remind him that I will be gone for most of the day, and that I wish to not be interrupted." She suddenly stopped walking and turned her heads towards the guards, who seemed slightly taken aback by her more forceful attitude and commanding tone of voice. She pinned them both with a fierce stare and said, in an almost icy tone that the sellsword had never heard from her before, "I'm sorry, did you not understand me or do I have to repeat myself, Ser Garran?"

The guard on the right shook his head and quickly replied, "No, my Lady. I will be sure to inform the Lord Tyrion." He bowed low and she gave a curt nod and then walked briskly forward, with Bronn following close behind, who was no longer hiding his smirk, outwardly pleased with her beautiful and almost flawless performance.

The instant they were out of earshot, he sidled up alongside her and whispered low in her ear, "Quite a performance, milady. Nicely done."

He saw a small smile creep onto her lips at his words and he smiled along with her as they headed towards the pathway that would lead them to their hidden retreat.

"Well," she said, sounding once more like the fifteen-year-old bride that she was, "I told Tyrion this morning that you would be coming by and he helped me with putting it together. He, well…he told me to pretend to have the ego of his sister. It worked."

Bronn let out a low chuckle and replied, "Yes, it did. You almost had me fooled."

She gave him a sideways look.

"Really?"

He nodded.

"Yes. Now," he added as he turned them onto the barely seen pathway between the towering trees. "We're going this way, milady."

He then grasped her arm and, with a slightly less than gentle touch, he lead the two of them through some of the rougher terrain just beyond the gardens that gently sloped up and then turned sharply downward, towards crumbling stone steps that hadn't been used in over six decades. Sansa stumbled a few times, her dress catching on branches as they went down and Bronn silently groaned in his head. The woman was a mess. How the hell was he going to teach her how to defend herself if she was this uncoordinated?

As soon as they were on the small court, she looked around, her eyes wide.

"What…what is this place?"

He dropped his sword to the side and then motioned with one hand while he checked his dagger with the other and said, "I've come here a few times. I think it might've been a part of the garden at one point, but was forgotten because of all the bloody overgrowth. Now," he added, stepping closer to her, "You need to change. Your clothes are up there."

He pointed up the incline towards the trees, and Sansa looked at him in shock.

"You…you expect me to…to…?"

The sellsword rolled his eyes.

"I won't see a bloody thing, milady. The trees will provide more than enough cover, I'm certain, but if it'll make you feel better, I'll keep my back turned, alright?"

Looking a bit like a lost lamb, she nodded, and headed up to the trees. Sure enough, she disappeared completely, just as he'd predicted, but he turned his back anyway, talking over his shoulder to her as she changed, saying, "Today we'll be workin' on getting you right on your feet. It doesn't matter if you're the best at swinging a sword in the seven kingdoms if you haven't got any footwork. It's better to know how to avoid a hit than knowin' how to make a hit."

He heard rustling and then he heard her say in a strained voice, "Will I…have to learn a sword?"

He chuckled and shook his head.

"No, milady. I was thinkin' a dagger would be more your speed. But, we have a ways to go before that happens. You still need to learn how to defend yourself without using any weapons. Using your own hands and feet."

There was no response, and so, carefully, Bronn turned slightly and was more than shocked to see her emerging from the trees, fully clothed in a knight's training uniform. A white shirt covered her torso, tightly laced up the front, and was tucked into brown pants that fit her far better than they should. The boots fit her calves like a second skin and she had already placed the leathers over her wrists and her waist, but he could tell that they were tied too loosely.

As Bronn approached her, he could tell that was uncomfortable in the clothes. The instant his hands touched the laces on the guard around her waist, however, she seemed to snap out of her daze and she looked at him with an almost frightened look and said in a panicked voice, "Bronn…what, what are you doing?"

Suddenly, he knew. Had the girl been touched against her will before? Shaking his head, deciding that he didn't have the time to deal with it, he tightened the laces, tying them quickly with practiced fingers, dropping his gaze from hers as he said, "Just fixing your laces, milady. If you want to make sure no one knows what we're doin', then you're going to have to be covered up properly, so we don't show any bruises," he added, bringing his eyes back up to hers and he could feel her relax at the admission.

He then reached for her right hand, drawing it towards him, and she looked almost embarrassed.

"I…I couldn't really tie them myself. My…my father always did it for me."

Bronn looked up in surprise at her words, and she quickly explained, "He would let us come on hunts, on occasion, when we would go out with our wolves, and he always made sure that we were properly dressed, just in case we had to help, and so he would tie on my braces for me so that I could pull my bow if I had to…"

At that, he raised an eyebrow and said, "You know how to shoot a bow?"

She bit her lip and dropped her eyes.

"Not very well. I was never very good at it. I have horrible aim," she admitted, lifting her eyes once more. "Arya was much better. A natural, my father called her."

Bronn smirked at that as he moved on to her left brace, remembering all of the stories that she'd shared over the past week with him about her boyish younger sister, and he replied, "Well, knowing what I know about her, I'm not all too surprised."

She smiled at that, meeting his eyes once more. He grinned back.

As soon as he'd finished tightening the laces, however, he immediately pulled her towards him and flipped her around so that he held both of her wrists firmly in his grip, and then hooked his right foot just in front of hers and dropped the both of them down to their knees with him pressed directly up against her back, his legs on the outside of hers, effectively trapping her.

"What…?!"

He whispered in her ear.

"If you'd been standing correctly, I wouldn't have been able to do that…" Her body was taught with adrenaline and he smirked. "Now…let's see what we can do to change that, milady."

She nodded and he let her go, helping her up to her feet. As soon as she was on her feet, he moved behind her once more and said, "Keep your feet shoulder width apart." She moved them. "Good, now, drop your shoulders, lose some of that tension in your neck." She did that as well. He then walked forward and tapped his right foot just inside hers and added, "Now, can you feel the difference? When you stand right, you don't fall down as easily."

Bronn then proceeded to try and take her down the same way as before and was pleased when he felt her resist his advance, even almost throwing him off-balance.

He smirked as he pulled back and then circled back in front of her.

"Your biggest advantage, Sansa," he said, using her name, "Is that you're tall for a woman. And in a fight, that's a good thing. You have more strength than you know, and you can take your opponent off guard by using it to your benefit." He reached forward and shoved her shoulders, but she stayed firm and he even saw her start to lift her hand in defense, but then she stopped, and he groaned.

"Oh, c'mon," he said, goading her once more with another firm shove. "A woman may not be allowed to start a fight, but she can bloody well finish it. Now, defend yourself!"

He shoved her a third time and was pleased when she brought her hands forward and shoved him back with enough force that he had to take a large step back to regain his balance.

"Good," he said, smirking. "Now, let's get to trainin'…"

She smiled.

Part 5/?