Bronn rose, cat-quick and cat-graceful, turning his sword in his hand. "You'll have me beside you in the battle, dwarf."
Tyrion nodded. The night air was warm on his bare skin. "See that I survive this battle, and you can name your reward."
Bronn tossed the longsword from his right hand to his left, and tried a cut. "Who'd want to kill the likes of you?"
My lord father, for one. He's put me in the van.
I'd do the same. A small man with a big shield. You'll give the archers fits.
I find you oddly cheering, Tyrion said. "I must be mad."
Bronn sheathed his sword. "Beyond a doubt."
When Tyrion returned to his tent, Shae rolled onto her elbow and murmured sleepily, "I woke and m'lord was gone."
M'lord is back now. He slid in beside her.
Her hand went between his stunted legs, and found him hard. "Yes he is," she whispered, stroking him.
He asked her about the man Bronn had taken her from, and she named the minor retainer of an insignificant lordling. "You need not fear his like, m'lord," the girl said, her fingers busy at his cock. "He is a small man."
And what am I, pray? Tyrion asked her. "A giant?"