Chapter 12

Sansa grunted as Bronn swung his sword fiercely downwards, hitting against her shorter blade, but she quickly retaliated, swinging upwards and moving inwards, stepping into his space, giving him no room to strike with his longer blade and she jabbed him in the ribs with her free left hand and then proceeded to use the move that he had taught her and swung her right leg up, using the leverage of her knee on her chest to throw him off balance just enough so that she could swing inwards and place a strategic blow to inside of his right knee, which brought him down to the ground.

As soon as he was on the ground, she delivered a decisive strike to his chest, right where his heart would be, turning the blade at the last possible second…and then she grinned.

"I believe you're dead, Ser Bronn."

He let out a breathless laugh, and he nodded.

"I believe I am, Lady Sansa."

Moving from off of him, she held out a hand and he smirked as he took it and stood back up. He pressed a quick kiss to it, and then proceeded to adjust his tunic and looked back at her, an interesting look in his eyes. Unsure of what to make of it, she busied herself by putting her blade back in its sheath, on the inside of her left leg.

He had given it to her not too long ago and instructed that she keep it on her at all times, now that she was familiar with how to handle it without injury. Sansa had protested at first, but he had insisted, so she simply gave in and did as he asked. It had taken some getting used to, of course, but after a while, she was no longer aware of the extra weight on her leg. And, when she went to take it off at night before she went to bed, to put it under her pillow, it felt strange, and she had come to sympathize with Bronn in how he felt towards his weapons. They became a part of you, and she understood that now.

As she straightened and re-tightened one of her braces, which she could now do on her own, he approached her and said, "You've taken well to everything I've thrown at you, Sansa…I'm proud of you."

A faint blush colored her cheeks and she turned her eyes down towards the ground, still unsure of how to accept compliments when they were given. Bronn rarely gave them to her, so when he did, she was always taken by surprise.

He put firm fingers under her chin and raised her eyes to his and added, with a smirk, "But I can still beat you."

She rolled her eyes and replied, "Of course you can, you're a sellsword, after all. It wouldn't do well if you showed me all of your tricks, now would it?" She smirked back at him and he felt his chest inwardly swell with pride at how she'd teased him right back for once, instead of blushing. Her backbone was finally showing.

Bronn stared at her a moment longer, and then said, "Just so you know, Shae knows about us." At that, she looked up at him, her eyes wide, and just as she was about to stutter out an apology, he waved a hand a cut her off, saying, "It's not your fault, girl. She saw the bruises and assumed they were from…other activities."

This time, she did blush, ducking her head and staring at her hands, and he was the one to roll his eyes.

"Oh, come off it, girl. You and I both know it isn't true, so there's no reason to get all weird about it now." He walked over to the low wall and sat down on it, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing out over the water as he then said, "Tyrion trusts her, but I don't, so I want you to keep your guard up when you're around her, alright?"

Curious as to why he'd mentioned her husband, she stepped closer to him and asked, "Tyrion? What does he have to do about this?"

He glanced back at her and then remembered. That's right. Tyrion had been keeping the secret of his and Shae's relationship away from Sansa, and Bronn had just inadvertently revealed their relationship. Well, considering that Tyrion had outed his relationship with Sansa to the whore, he felt no guilt about accidentally revealing their relationship.

He let out a sigh and said, "You didn't honestly think you were the only woman in his life, did you?"

Bronn said nothing more than that, and let Sansa come to the conclusion on her own…and when she did, instead of the reaction of a fifteen-year-old girl, he was given the reaction of a mature young woman, and it took him by surprise when she sat down next to him, and said, casually leaning back on her hands, "I guess it makes sense, after a fashion, that he would have someone besides me. I mean…I'm not stupid, but…I have to admit that I wasn't expecting it to be Shae."

Sansa paused for a moment, looking out over the water as well, squinting her eyes in the bright afternoon sun, and Bronn carefully studied her profile, still silently astounded that a woman like her could ever harbor any feelings for a sellsword like him.

She then said, in a quiet voice, "No wonder Shae doesn't like me. I always wondered why…"

Bronn, forgetting his usual demeanor, moved closer to her, their thighs pressing against each other, and said, "It's not just that, Sansa. Shae is not to be trusted, no matter what the lord might say. I believe she means to tell Lord Baelish about our…" He couldn't use the word relationship. That would make it seem more important than it really was. So instead he said, "Arrangement. I'm fairly certain she means to use it as leverage to escape from King's Landing and head back home."

Sansa looked at him, her green eyes locking with his, and he waited for her to jump to the woman's defense…but she didn't.

Instead, after a long moment of expectant silence, she said, in a steady and clear voice, "Lord Baelish will come to me, won't he," and Bronn nodded.

"Yes, I expect he will."

Slightly surprised that she had figured it out so quickly, he remained quiet, and was not disappointed when she then said, in a tone much more befitting her age, "This is so stupid." He didn't reply, but she continued any way. "All you're doing is teaching me how to defend myself so that I'm no longer afraid to walk alone, and now she just thinks that I'm a stupid little girl with a silly crush." She paused and looked down at where their legs were touching, and then said, in a voice so soft, he could barely hear it, "But it's so much more than that…"

Bronn stared at her, wondering what she meant by her words, but did nothing, unsure of how to react to such an ambiguous statement. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, however, he shifted, moving his hand to cover one of her own, where it rested on her knee.

A faint smile appeared on the corner of her mouth and he felt a smirk appear on his own in response to it.

Gently squeezing her hand, he said, "Perhaps it is…but, for right now, we need to make a plan."

Her eyes snapped back up to his from where she'd been staring at their hands, and from her furrowed brow, he could tell that she was genuinely confused by his words. And from the tension that he could feel in her hand, he knew that she was worried.

"A plan? A plan for what?"

He gave her a look.

"For getting out of King's Landing." He could tell that she was about to protest, so he cut her off, saying, "The cunt's wedding is in less than a week, and we need to get you out of here before then, milady, and Lord Baelish is the perfect way to do that." The same look of confusion colored her face, so he explained. "Baelish has a weakness for you, Sansa, and I intend for us to use it to get you out of here. To get us both out of here."

At the word 'both', he felt her relax under his touch, and he suddenly understood the tension that he'd felt in her from before. She had been upset because she thought that he wasn't going with her…and, at that thought, he realized just how much they had come to rely on the other person. All too quickly, Bronn was finding that he no longer thought of just himself, and that, in his mind, he had begun using the words 'we' and 'us', and very little of the noun 'I'. The Stark girl was certainly changing him, that was for sure.

A wave of nervous energy hit him at that thought, so he quickly stood up and pulled away, turning his head to avoid seeing the hurt look that he knew she was giving him at his abrupt actions, and then said, in a brisk and clipped tone, "He'll approach you somewhere where it's crowded. It will be the only way he can make sure that he can get you away from me. When he does this…let him."

Sansa moved as if to stand, but then stayed where she was and replied, in a hesitant tone, "L…Let him? But I thought…"

He shook his head.

"We want him to think that I'm using you. Let him think that you want nothing more than to get away from me. Make him think that I've been…" Bronn paused, unable to quite finish his sentence, hating himself for putting her in the position that he was going to put her in, but then tightened his jaw and finished it. "…Forcing my affections on you."

She stared at him, her mouth slightly open in shock, and he wasn't surprised when she suddenly surged to her feet, anger in her eyes…but he was shocked when one of her surprisingly strong hands wrapped around the back of his neck to pull him to her lips.

At a kiss that was almost violent in its' execution, he grunted in surprise, but then gave into it, their brief tussle turning into something meltingly sinful, as her lips parted on a gasp, Bronn taking shameless advantage of it, slipping his tongue between them, finally tasting her properly for the first time…and, oh, seven kingdoms, she was divine. Throwing himself into it, no longer holding himself back, as he had been for the last week, he roughly grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, grateful for the similarity in their heights as her thighs pressed up deliciously against his.

She let out a gasp and he understood why, as he felt the 'v' of her legs line up perfectly with a certain part of him that was taking definite interest.

"Bronn," she breathed out, and something about the pleading in her voice seemed to short-circuit all of his rational thought, as he then proceeded to slide his hands down her back, causing her to arch into him further, and then lifted her so that she had no other choice but to wrap her legs around his waist.

Her weight throwing him a bit off balance, he stumbled backwards, sitting soundly on the stone wall, causing her to press even more firmly against him, forcing him to let out a groan of his own at the feeling of her above him, better than anything that he'd ever imagined…not that he'd ever imagined this. Well, perhaps in a few passing thoughts, but never anything quite as intense at what was happening at that moment.

Her lips captured his once more and the instant he felt her sliding her tongue willingly against his, he bucked up into her, unable to stop the instinctive movement, his blood pounding through his ears.

She gasped a second time, and, not thinking about what he was doing, his fingers dug into her hips and pulled her more firmly against him as he pushed against her a second time. At the motion, her head fell back…and she willingly pushed back against him.

All logical and rational thought gone, they continued their dance, back and forth, an astounding friction of heat building between them, as well as other things, and he almost lost it when he felt Sansa's hands move down his sides, her thumbs slotting perfectly into divots of his hips as she moved them just below the top edge of his trousers. For a novice, she was certainly a natural when it came to this sort of thing.

Her hips began to languidly roll above him, in a motion that had his ears ringing and parts of him hardening. Back and forth, back and forth, in a rhythm that caught them both by surprise in its deliberate slowness. His breath still shaky, he leaned in and pressed an open mouthed kiss to her neck and the sound that escaped her lips was so achingly perfect, that he pushed just a little bit harder…and then, from the way she shuddered above him, he knew what had just happened, and slowly stilled.

"Bronn…"

His fingers tightened on her hips for a moment, and then he pulled back, looking at her with wide eyes. In a low murmur, he said, "Dammit, girl, you'll be the death of me."

Instead of looking abashed or embarrassed by his words or their actions, she smirked, and said, "At least you know that you're not the one forcing your affections…"

At her words, he looked at her in shock…and then started to laugh. Sansa just smiled at him as he did, waiting for him to stop, and eventually his laughter died down and he gave her a look of such soft affection, anyone who knew him would have thought it utterly out of character…but something about this girl just made him that way.

Reaching up and brushing a strand of hair from her eye, he said, "Can't argue such a well thought-out argument, milady." He smirked at her, and she ducked her head, blushing…and something finally made sense to him in that moment. Lifting her head with a finger under her chin, he smirked at her a second time…and, again, she blushed, and that was when he knew. Shaking his head, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth and said softly, "Say yes to Baelish."

She stiffened at his words, but before she could move off of him, he held her firmly with a hand on her waist, and said into her ear, "I already have a way out, Sansa. I always have…but now, I have you to think about. And Lord Baelish can get you out. Safely. I'm certain of it."

He pulled back and gave her a look, arching an eyebrow.

She stared right back at him and then slowly nodded, saying, "I understand. It's…I just…I don't like being away from you…"

His look softened slightly and he simply let out a sigh and helped her off his lap so that they instead were both standing, barely an inch between them. He reached out a hand and placed it on her neck, and she brought up her own hand to cover his, their fingers interlocking, and so he lingered longer than he should, savoring the moment for what it was. Rare and precious.

"I know."

Two words, that was all, but they seemed to be enough reassure her.

After a long moment, they dropped their hands, and Sansa moved to change her clothes. This time, however, he didn't turn around. Even though he couldn't see her, for a brief moment, he saw a flash of skin, pale and unblemished, and he smirked.

Fucking tease, he thought to himself. But, of course, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Part 12/?