A Puppy's Worth a Thousand Words

"Oh yes, indeed. She knows the temper of the horses better than any of the boys." Her Uncle Bayard was gushing with pride as he spoke to the two men. "I would take her opinion myself on any one of them. The boys are all wonderful horse trainers, and she's not too bad at that herself. In fact, if it weren't for the dogs, I'd have her spend all her time working the horses. She is most valuable to us here."

The stable master hugged Rowena's shoulders protectively as he said it, and she felt the genuine care and concern that she knew he had for her. The concern a father would have for his daughter. He knew what sort of intentions Lord Baelish had towards his niece, but he knew he had to be cautious with the man. Rowena realized how much she cared for this man at that moment, and how he'd made it possible, slowly and over time, for her to trust at least one man in her life so far.

Baelish was now even more annoyed, having been quite confident of catching Rowena in a lie as soon as they arrived back at the stables. Rowena saw the sellsword standing back smiling as he looked at the floor. He obviously had no affection for Lord Baelish, that was clear, and she liked that.

The four of them walked down the aisle between rows of stalls, with Bronn half-heartedly looking at the horses as they passed.

"How 'bout that one?" He finally said, nodding towards a chestnut mare who turned her face to the corner as soon as they stopped outside her stall.

"That horse is not a good match for you." Rowena said dismissively, not meaning to sound insulting. But when she looked at him, he folded his arms over his chest and gave her a skeptical look

"And why's that?" he asked. How stupid I am, she thought, any horse will do at the moment if it gets rid of Lord Baelish. Are you trying to draw this out longer than necessary?

Too late now. She would have to provide an explanation.

"Because she doesn't have a steady temper. She's skittish, she spooks easily and she nips and kicks other horses if they crowd her. She would not be a reliable mount for you in a crowded street or in a battle."

He said nothing, looking unconvinced, so she shrugged her shoulders and continued. "I suppose you do need to draw your sword when you're on horseback at times? She would toss you off in a second out of fear. I would imagine a horse like that could put a man in your line of work at an extreme disadvantage."

Now it was Rowena's turn to feel smug, but she smiled at him as sweetly as she did at the lecherous men at market. Her Uncle Bayard beamed proudly, and patted her on the shoulder, looking directly at Lord Baelish, hoping he would now be on his way.

Bronn smiled and nodded, and she wondered if he'd only been toying with her. She pressed her lips together tightly to keep herself from smiling right back at him.

Finally Lord Baelish had had enough. "Well then, I see you do have business to attend to, so I will leave you to it. Good day," he said, and stormed out of the barn, angry and frustrated. Rowena breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him go.

Once he was out of sight, Bayard asked Bronn if he might have a word with him, and they headed into the house. Rowena wandered back to the stables and went to the stall where the newest litter of puppies napped with their mother. The bitch's name was Blu, for she had one blue eye and one eye mixed brown and blue. Rowena opened the door and went in, pausing to make sure she had Blu's permission to enter. When Blu thumped her tail on the ground, Rowena smiled at her and went and sat down next to her head. The puppies all came running over as she clucked and cooed at them, and stroked Blu's neck. There is almost nothing in the world that could make me happier than puppies, she thought, as they clamored over each other to get to her. She loved all the dogs, but puppies were the most special to be around.

Blu suddenly lowered her head and flattened her ears, and Rowena looked up to see the sellsword, Bronn, leaning over the stall railing. Blu remained tense, but did not growl at him. "He's not here to bother you," Rowena assured her, patting the dog's head and getting to her feet.

"Fat little things, aren't they," he said, leaning over so that he was resting his head and arms on the top board of the stall, watching the puppies.

"Do you want to hold one?" Rowena asked, suddenly having an idea that she'd very much like to see how this man who killed for a coin would react to a tiny ball of fur.

"Oh no," he said, standing up and backing away from the stall. But she had already scooped up one of the puppies and was out the stall door. She handed the puppy to him unceremoniously, "Here, hold him," and turned and walked to the bucket of food scraps that were saved for the dogs.

Rowena watched over her shoulder, while she filled a bowl with scraps from the bucket. At first he grimaced and turned his face away when the puppy licked him, then he held the puppy out away from his body, which only made the dangling puppy cry. Finally he held the puppy close to his chest, stroking the puppy's back and scratching its neck. The puppy soon stopped wiggling, and licked and nibbled at his chin.

Bronn looked up at Rowena and she realized she was just standing there, watching him. She brought the bowl of scraps back to the stall, and put them down for Blu.

When she turned back to Bronn, he was stroking the pup's shoulder, its head was tucked under his chin, eyes starting to blink, and then it yawned. He looked up at Rowena as if to say, did you see that? When he saw her already watching, he tried to look stern. She pretended not to notice, but try as she might, she could not stop smiling.

"You can just put him down in the stall now, Blu's had her supper." she told the sellsword. "He's already trying to steal her food, so I have to take him out while she eats so she can have some peace."

She returned the bowl back to the shelf over the bucket and watched him from the corner of her eye. He very gently sat the puppy on the ground, patted its little head, and spoke to it softly before he stood up.

A thought had occurred to her while he was in talking with her Uncle Bayard. And now she had to work up the courage to ask him about it.

She cleared her throat, and nervously pressed her skirt with her hands. "Bronn?" He looked up from the puppies, waiting for her to speak.

"How did you come to be in the street just then?" She asked, only meeting his eyes when she had finished speaking.

"Could be I was following you." he admitted. "Maybe I just wanted to know where you lived." He shrugged, and leaned against the wall behind him. "Or maybe I had worse things on my mind than that man in fine clothing did." He didn't smile when she looked surprised. "Don't think I don't have the same kind of thoughts that other men do,' he warned her, shaking his head. "I'm not to be trusted either."

She nodded that she understood his point and did not press the topic any further. It was something of the response she had feared, and she guessed she should be glad for his honesty. She turned back to the puppies as he headed out into the evening. At the doorway he stopped and called back, "By the way, I'll be by tomorrow so you can't help me pick out that horse." He was smiling wickedly. This time she could not help but return his smile, and then he was gone.

When she was laying in her bed that night she was unable to sleep. The day's events had been so strange. She wondered how angry Lord Baelish would be, or what he might do next. But she had later realized that when they were in the street, as angry as he'd been, he'd also seemed intimidated. He was a noble, and one with a great deal of power, but he'd been all alone as well. There on an empty street, he was just as vulnerable as anyone, although she was sure he was armed with at least a dagger under his robes. Bronn was not a very large man, but he was easily a head taller than the lord. And although he was thin, the sellsword was muscled and wiry. He would be much stronger than Lord Baelish, she was sure. Perhaps that was why Lord Baelish liked to bully girls and women, she thought, because he was small and easily outmatched physically by other men. Yes, that made sense. Unfortunately, she was just a girl, so for her, he was still something to worry about.

She realized she had already set her opinion of the sellsword because he had rescued her from Lord Baelish, whatever his original intentions were. And even more important to her than that, was that Kip had never growled at him once. Not even when he was staring at her in the street. And in her mind, she could still see him holding that fat little puppy. She knew what he did for a living, and she knew a sellsword did nothing that wouldn't benefit himself in some way. Everything had to have a payment or reward. No one knew where he came from, or anything of his past, but she was sure there was some part in him that was good. At least she wanted desperately to believe there was.