Bronn was a simple man, a bastard of a whore and some cunt who couldn't give a damn, although both loved to beat him and his younger brother, and-bar the beating- that was fine by Bronn, but he wanted more out of life and for a bastard without a name that was a rather difficult goal to achieve. So far in his twenty-six years of life he had improved his station somewhat, he had his first kill at the age of five, it had been accidental of course but he had realised quickly that he had the talent for it and he could still find it in himself to sleep at night, so he decided to become a mercenary. He had ran away from his family after a slight incident with a woman and an axe when he was twelve and the incident at fourteen with his younger brother and a ditch only cemented his choice, he had travelled throughout Westeros, even straying beyond the wall and he had sharpened his skills until he had become known as 'the Cutthroat' and one of his sayings being 'steel for gold' and a great deal of gold he had earnt but he wanted to improve his station, he had recently settled on three immediate goals, A lordship, a castle and a highborn beauty for a wife the rest could come later, but first he needed to get on the radar of the nobles and make a reputation for himself.

He was currently relaxing at the cross-roads inn, he had heard of the royal party heading north and he had plans on catching one of the eyes in the party, anyone who was close to the royals would be an upgrade for him.

And a golden lion just happened to fall into his lap, taking a sip of the flagon of ale in front of him he spotted the famed imp of the rock try to bargain for a room for the night, oh the gods were good.

"I'm sorry mi'lord truly we don't have any spare room" the woman who ran the inn implored him.

"I don't need much room; my men will sleep in the barn" the little lord replied sardonically

"truly Mi'lord we don't have the room" the woman insisted

The Lord sighed before reaching into his pouch and pulling out a golden dragon.

"is there nothing I can do to remedy this situation?" he asked the room which had fallen silent, knocking the gold coin against a table top

"My room has a spare bed" Bronn leant forward, giving a sharp smile to the lord.

"Smart man" he replied tossing the coin towards him which he deftly caught "bring me a flagon of ale and a plate of food for myself, I'll sit with my new friend" the small man quickly made his way over and sat across from him, a smile on his face. Bronn had to admit to himself for such a small man he sure had a set of balls on him.

"my lord Lannister may I sing for you? I could sing of your fathers triumph perhaps the rains of castemere?" a bard quickly moved to sit at the head of the table

"nothing will put me off my meal faster" Tyrion quipped quickly

"perhaps you'd like to hear of the beguiling wolf then my lord?" the bard replied slyly stringing his instrument

"the what?" Tyrion questioned a confused look on his face

"it's a song my lord of the rumoured northern beauty, said to be far fairer then her aunt, Lyra Stark she's called fairer than the maiden and the prettiest noble in all of the seven kingdoms, her and Robb stark, the twin wolves their called" the bard gossiped eagerly, sensing he had intrigued them.

"a lot of songs insist on the beauty of a maiden and it turns out that she's got the face of a slapped arse" a man from across the room interjected clearly having eavesdropped

"watch your tongue when speaking of the Lady Stark, or I'll have it out" an incensed voice roared, Bronn could spot the flayed man on a black background, a Bolton then, vassal to house stark.

"now, now gentleman let's not fight, I would love to hear of the Lady Stark's beauty" Tyrion quickly intervened, and the bard quickly jumped at the opportunity opening his mouth and singing.

"Oh she's the beguiling one

Her eyes soft as morning mist,

Silky hair, black as pitch

Pale as the moon, ruby red lips.

Comely figure, brazen persona

For her I'd wage a million wars" the bard finished the song with a triumphant strum of the strings and looked to the room for accolades which where readily given by the Northerners in the room, the loudest being the karstarks, it was a bit odd for so many to be south as the northerners enjoyed keeping to themselves.

"a highborn beauty then?" Bronn mused to himself, a smirk crossing his lips

"apparently so" Tyrion responded digging into the food he had been given.

A/N: okay so this is something that I'm playing around with, my other story isn't being abandoned I just need to fix it. Tell me what you think? I know the song is a bit shite apologies .