A Horse for Bronn

When the men finally returned to the stable yard some time later, Rowena could immediately sense tension, especially between her Uncle Bayard and Bronn. Both seemed on edge, annoyed even, and both seemed to be avoiding each other's eye, and hers as well. This made her quite uneasy, but Tyrion distracted her by politely asking if they might see the horse now.

Rowena gave the two other men another look before heading back to the barn. She was nervous now, and she had no idea why, but she felt certain that whatever they discussed in the house had involved her somehow. She finally led out a sturdy, well-muscled horse that they'd only had a few weeks. She could tell right away that Tyrion was impressed with the animal. Bronn of course showed no hint of what he thought on first sight.

She had chosen to bring the horse out wearing only a bridle, and led him to a wooden block on one side of the paddock where she could easily climb up. Then she showed them how magnificent he was, how quickly he could go from a walk to a full gallop and back to a walk again. How quickly and tightly he could turn, and stop, at full speed. She rode him through a chute made of two fences, just wide enough for a horse to walk through. He clipped the wood with a front hoof, and his hindquarters bounced against the fence, but he didn't react at all. Then she rode him up and over a small makeshift wooden bridge in the center of the paddock, which he took with no hesitation. She rode him near a group of doves resting on the ground, and they fluttered up beneath him and around him, and he didn't give them the slightest notice other than a snort. Finally, she trotted him back over to where the men stood, to see if they were satisfied with his performance.

"Very well done, Rowena," her uncle said, beaming with obvious pride. Tyrion Lannister seemed surprised not only by the horse, but by the rider as well, and was regarding her almost skeptically. "Yes, very well done," he agreed. "And the horse is just as impressive as you said. Perhaps I should take him for myself?" He looked sideways at Bronn, who only smirked at him.

"My horse," he snapped in response to Tyrion's jab, and gave a simple nod to Rowena. It was enough to let her know he was impressed. She couldn't suppress a satisfied smile, as she patted the horse's neck.

"And where did you find this horse?" Tyrion asked, turning to make polite conversation with her uncle.

"Oh, well, a man came along a few weeks back, said he was desperate for money to buy food to feed his family." Uncle Bayard explained. "Tried to pass him off as a destrier," he said, shaking his head as they both turned back to regard the animal standing in front of them. "But you can tell he's crossed, most likely with a courser. Makes for a fine horse, but of course not worth what he wanted for it, and he knew it. So we got him for a real honest price. Couldn't have done better. Rowena's done nearly all the work with him since he's been here."

He winked at Rowena, gave a friendly smile to the Imp, then turned a wary eye towards Bronn. He cleared his throat when he noticed that the sellsword was regarding his niece far more intently than the horse.

"She's somewhat attached to him, so you should feel fortunate she picked him out for you." Rowena noticed he spoke somewhat less politely to the sellsword than to the Lannister.

"He's not worth the price of a destrier," the older man continued, "but he's certainly no rounsey. But some don't like the idea of crossing, so...we can't expect to get much for him, and we don't need another horse to feed." He shrugged and Bronn acknowledged him with a nod, but said nothing in reply. The sellsword was now studying the horse more keenly.

Her uncle was right of course. He would make a superior horse for a sellsword, and she would wager Bronn had never been on such a horse either. She was only so lucky because she happened to be around when the horse came along. Otherwise, one of the boys would've jumped on the chance to work him, and she'd never have gotten near him. When she truly wanted something that would normally be left to the boys, she could almost always find a way to convince her uncle to let her at least have a try. When she saw this horse, it had been one of those times. Otherwise, she tried not to take advantage of the old man's paternal softness towards her.

Suddenly, she wondered, somewhat guiltily, if a sellsword, even one employed by a Lannister, might get an idea to try and sell a horse like this for money. She eyed him suspiciously, through narrowed eyes, and he seemed a bit taken aback when he noticed her looking at him that way.

"What he means is, you wouldn't get very much if you tried to sell him." She said flatly. As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

He raised his eyebrows, both surprised and somewhat amused by her boldness. "Oh is that what you're worrying yourself about, love?" She realized now he was not going to let the comment pass. "Don't worry, I wouldn't sell him for horseflesh, but I would eat him if I had no other choice."

Tyrion looked at him in shock, but said nothing. He could only shake his head and sigh in resignation, as he turned to both apologize and say his goodbye's to Bayard.

Bronn ignored him, taking a step closer to the horse. "Lucky for me - or for him, " he continued, "my situation is such that I'm no longer lacking for food most days now."

"Well, I'm certain she's glad to hear that." interrupted Tyrion loudly, once again breaking the tension. "Shall we be on our way, Bronn?" The sellsword and Rowena still had their eyes locked on each other, when the smaller man cleared his throat loudly to get their attention.

They both looked at the little man then, Bronn insolently, Rowena sheepishly. She saw Tyrion rolling his eyes at Bronn, shaking his head again, as if he were dealing with two children. And then she felt badly about how she'd spoken in front of him, and thought that she had surely embarrassed her uncle. But her uncle knew she seldom spoke to anyone that way, unless they were truly deserving of it. Tyrion Lannister, however, did not know her, so now he must think her a very rude and impudent girl.

Rowena felt very foolish now. She knew that to Bronn, it didn't matter what anyone thought, and wished she had that ability. But she didn't. She was thoroughly ashamed of her behavior. She tried her best not to pout, distracting herself by stroking the horse's neck, and avoiding eye contact with any of them.

She was grateful when her uncle thanked her again and waved her away, essentially excusing her. She slid from the horse's back and landed lightly on her feet, and led him back to the barn. Moments later, Bronn appeared at the stall door.

"Well that was quite a demonstration", he said, somewhat sarcastically. There was still a slight edge to his voice which made her cringe.

"I'm sorry," she said, still not meeting his eyes. "I didn't mean to be rude. I hope you'll forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive," He replied, waving a hand at her and shaking his head. "I like that you speak what's on your mind. Truth is, before I came upon this arrangement with Tyrion, I probably would've thought of doing just that,"

She looked up at him cautiously. "And besides", he continued, "I did tell you not to trust me." His eyes twinkled with a smile now.

She felt relieved but could only manage a weak smile, still feeling embarrassed by her behavior.

"We have business nearby, but we'll be back to pick him up in a few hours." He said and started to leave.

"Bronn?" she called after him, and he turned to look her. "I never thanked you for what you did yesterday."

"At your service, m'lady", he said with a broad smile, bowing towards her.

"Why thank you, m'lord", she replied with her own smile. At this he laughed, "Me, a lord? Not sure I'll live to see that."

"If I'm your lady, then you're my lord", she said with exaggerated seriousness. "That's how the game works."

"It's a game we played as children," she explained when he looked at her curiously. "We called each other lords and ladies, or sometimes the boys preferred to be knights."

"No queens or princesses?" He asked, looking at her thoughtfully.

"Not me," she said, shaking her head emphatically.

"Well, you are as much a lady as any I've met, moreso than some," he said, in all seriousness.

Her cheeks reddened at the compliment, and he seemed quite pleased now as he took his leave. When he was gone, she sighed with relief, and set about brushing the horse. She had that strange fluttery feeling in her stomach again, and spent the rest of the morning anxiously awaiting his return.