#bronn of the blackwater x reader

hugging each other

Bronn x female!reader

Word Count: 935

Note: Highkey I’ve only watched through season 5, but like, let’s pretend this is the AU that it is, and this encounter happened sometime before everything went completely sideways. K? K.

You’d met a lot of people during your travels across Westeros, and almost all of them had been in passing. Nobles, you’d run into during your time playing guard for Genna Lannister. Everyone else was just on the road to some place or another. Of all, your personal favorite mildly-hostile encounter had been with Brienne of Tarth in a sketchy little inn at the heart of the country.

She hated you on the spot. You assumed there was a smear of blood somewhere on your black leather armor that you missed the last time you’d taken a dip in a river that tipped her off that you were more of a combatant than the average traveling woman. Or maybe it was the way you were hunched over the table, eating alone like you were one of the men that passed through places like this. Honestly, it was probably the knives that were tucked into your belt and the sword that kept knocking into the bottom of the table when you shifted. She’d had some terse words to say to a sellsword like you, but by the end of the encounter (and ensuing not-so-friendly spar to show off both of your skills) you’d earned a grudging respect from the woman.

Plus, you found it rather amusing to consider the fact that you were essentially her shadow self: great fighter, keep your word (for the right price), and constantly mocked by random men that thought a woman couldn’t do their job as well as they could.

This grudging respect (from her, you adored the woman as much as you loved riling her up) bloomed to a strange friendship when you ended up traveling with her and Pod to … somewhere. You hadn’t been paying attention to their talks of a destination; you’d been a bit distracted by the handsome stableboy that was eyeing you up at the time. 

And that friendship led you to absolutely laughing your ass off when the pair of you ran into none other than Jamie fucking Lannister and SerBronn of the Blackwater one the road, headed opposite directions. As soon as you saw them, your giggling started and it didn’t stop even after you were laughing so hard that you literally fell off your horse.

“Are you alright?” you heard Jamie ask.

“She’s finally lost it,” Brienne’s tired response came from next to you. “How are you, Ser Jamie?”

“I’ve been well, Lady Brienne,” was his automatic response. You could hear the smile in his voice. The polite way the friends greeted each other had your peals of laughter going even harder.

“Pod, would you mind holding her horse so it doesn’t run away?” Brienne asked. 

You heard boots hitting the ground moments before Jamie asked, “Bronn, where are you going?”

The footsteps paused long enough for Bronn’s gruff voice to indignantly say, “Where do you fuckin’ think?” Then as soon as he was close enough, you felt his hand grasp your arm. “Up you get, giggles.”

As soon as you were upright, you threw your arms around his neck in a tight hug and allowed yourself to be pulled into a heated kiss, smiling the whole time. You loved the way his arms felt around you. “Missed you.”

He shamelessly grabbed a handful of your ass and muttered, “Missed you too, sweetheart,” before turning to face your now shocked companions.

“Uh … Do either of you care to explain what the hells is going on?” Jamie prodded, looking more than a little amused despite the confusion.

“I assume Tall, Blonde, and Honorable and Ser Magic Cock already know this, but,” you snorted with renewed laughter during Bronn’s introduction of you.

“And how do you know each other?” It was Podrick that asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you teased, knowing full well that it was certainly not obvious.

Bronn’s hand slipped inside the collar of your chest armor to retrieve the chain–and therefore ring–that hung there. “This is my wife.”

“Your … what?” Brienne looked totally scandalized. “But …”

“You and that stable boy last night!” 

“And Bronn, they had to chase you out of the brothel with a broom in the last town!”

Which, of course, only sent you into yet another fit of giggles while you laced your fingers with your husbands. Since it was clear that none of you were likely to depart this little spot anytime tonight and it honestly wasn’t a bad place to camp for the night, it was unanimously decided that you’d be sleeping here. The entire time setting up and making dinner was spent explaining that, yes you and Bronn had been married for quite some time, and yes, the pair of you loved your jobs and understood that sometimes you got a little hard up on the road, so you were fine with sleeping around as long as you weren’t an idiot about it. Then the discussions of where everyone was going came up, and that thoroughly moved the conversation on right up until Brienne asked the question that had probably been bothering her since the moment you fell off your horse.

“Whywereyou laughing so hard earlier, anyway?”

Just at the reminder, you snorted again. Looking over at your husband, you asked, “You wanna say it or shall I?”

“Considering even I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about …”

“Isn’t it obvious? Brienne and I are just the female versions of you two!”

Which took a second for the others to understand, but once it registered … Let’s just say there was probably no wildlife within a mile of the little camp after the uproar.

Bronn x fem!reader

Word Count: 802

Summary: You’d grown up a bastard. Ignored by your hometown and it was only natural that you’d grown sick of it. So you struck out on your own. What interesting times lie ahead of you?

Nights like this it was impossible not to think.

You idly poked at your tiny campfire with a stick. The night wasn’t particularly cold out–Winter hadn’t fully set in–but you’d needed to cook that rabbit you caught on the road. While it roasted, you let your mind wander.

How far you’d come since leaving your little hometown, you mused. It’d been years since you’d been back to the place, many years, but that was where you found yourself headed now. You couldn’t say you missed it, to be honest. You hadn’t even really thought about it in quite a while. It was hard for someone to belong when literally everyone else that called it home knew that you were a bastard and a female one to boot. The product of a stable boy and an innkeeper’s cook, you were lucky you hadn’t been mistreated, per se. 

It was more like you’d simply been ignored. 

Ignored right up to the point that you now wondered if anyone even noticed when you’d left.

You prodded the fire again.

You made the right choice in leaving. Your life as a sellsword may have been hard and unforgiving, but it was unfathomably more fulfilling–not to mention fun–than it would have ever been in that no-name town. Never would you have expected to end up in that line of work but … When that woman pleaded for your help after finding you training in an abandoned clearing …

~

You huffed labored breath after labored breath as you practiced sword swing after sword swing at an imaginary enemy. Practice was required if you had a single prayer of surviving alone on the road, but like hells was any man going to take the time out of his busy life to teach a woman like you. So alone you practiced.

“Excuse me, miss?” a weak voice called.

You startled and found your feet tripping over themselves for one terrifying moment. Just barely, you managed to keep them under you. Alarmed, you looked towards the trees where the voice seemed to come from. “Who are you?” you demanded of the woman that was standing just far enough in the forest that she was cloaked in the shadows, wringing her hands as she avoided your gaze. “Why are you out here so late?”

“I … I heard the men talking about a woman flapping her sword about in the meadow and …” She trailed off.

“And what?” you snapped, irritated. No doubt she was just quoting exactly what those men had been saying, but the words still stung.

“Are you,” you could hear her nervous swallow even at this distance, “a sellsword?”

That was an unexpectedly good question. You’d made it this far by doing a bit of whoring and thieving–sometimes at the same time–but you’d be lying if you said the thought of becoming a sellsword hadn’t crossed your mind.

“Depends,” you replied aloofly. “What do you want?”

“My husband … he …”

Your heart rate spiked as her words drifted off again. “Come closer.” Into the light, you didn’t say though you were thinking it.

Hesitatingly, she did. And the moment she stepped into the ring light in the little clearing, you saw the bruises on her eye, on her neck, and on her wrists.

“He did this to you?”

“… Yes, miss.”

You took a long, slow breath that she must have mistaken as you about to deny her request.

“I have money!” she announced, voice just this side of hysterical. She thrust out a small bag that seemed to be full of coin.

Your eyebrows. There was no way you wouldn’t be doing this job, but you didneed to eat … “How?”

“He drinks, miss … Doesn’t notice when I pinch a coin while he’s asleep.”

Inwardly, you winced. For that bag to be that full … You didn’t want to think about how long she must have been saving for this moment. “I’ll do it,” you announced. “Pay me after.”

The tension seemed to bleed out of her shadows all at once. “Thankyou.”

~

You’d killed him that very night. Slit in his throat in his drunken slumber and left town before dark with that coinpurse tucked into your belt for safekeeping. A day later you bought the curved knife that now rested in its sheath at the base of your spine and the horse that was tied to the tree next to you. 

A twig snapping nearby made your eyes start scanning the edge of the clearing you were calling home for the night, hand on your sword as you braced for an attack. Then, one after another, men in Lannister armor started stepping into your campsite.

There were five of them.

The leader looked you up and down with a lecherous smirk on his face before saying, “Well look what we have here.”