Chapter 10 – Training
Tyrion didn't notice Podrick's silence; he assumed the boy was simply listening intently.
"So, as for becoming a knight—that's a little more complicated. Ah—how old are you, by the way?"
"Twelve, my lord."
Podrick's eyes flicked briefly to the "Age" field on his unseen panel before answering.
Tyrion paused, then gave a faint smirk.
"Twelve, is it?"
"You know, my brother Jaime Lannister was knighted at fifteen—same age as Prince Daeron Targaryen. But rumor has it that Daemon Blackfyre was granted knighthood at twelve by his father, King Aegon IV."
At that, Tyrion stopped and gave Podrick a pointed look.
"You already have one of the main requirements for knighthood—wealth. Knights must pay for their own arms and armor, and that's no small thing."
"But tell me—do you even know how to use any of it?"
Podrick lowered his gaze to the pile in his arms.
"This is the first time I've ever owned any."
That genuinely surprised Tyrion.
"So, you know nothing at all. I suppose that tracks—if you did, you wouldn't be asking me these questions. Who was your previous master?"
"Ser Cedric Payne, my lord."
Podrick looked up as he spoke.
"My father served as squire to a wealthy relative, but he died in the Greyjoy Rebellion. My mother was the daughter of a shopkeeper, but she abandoned me when I was four."
"After that, Ser Cedric Payne took care of me. I served as his squire… until he was killed in the fighting in the Riverlands."
Podrick's tone was calm—so calm that it sounded as if he were reading someone else's story from a page.
The wagon wheels creaked over uneven earth, the rattling of armor and weapons chiming with every bump.
Tyrion studied the boy's serene blue eyes, then the way he clung tightly to the gear piled in his arms.
After a moment of silence, he pushed himself upright against the rail of the cart.
Podrick saw him open his mouth to speak—then close it again.
"Seven hells… seems I'll need someone to help train my squire," Tyrion muttered with a click of his tongue.
---
Night had fallen.
All banners were swallowed by darkness, reduced to silhouette alone.
The Lannister encampment stretched for miles between the river and the Kingsroad.
Fireflies drifted between the tents like wandering stars.
The air smelled of garlic sausage—spicy, greasy, irresistible.
A lute played a bawdy tune in the distance; a woman giggled as she ran past, cloak barely covering anything beneath.
Bronn sauntered toward the riverbank through the lively chaos, two wooden practice rods tucked under his arm.
He picked his teeth with a twig he'd found gods-knew-where, glancing idly at the half-naked woman as she dashed by.
Pfft.
"So—you're ready for this?" he said, spitting out a shred of onion skin before tossing away the twig he'd used as a toothpick.
His eyes fell on the boy sitting by the river, waiting in silence for him—tense, focused, ready.
"I've been ready, ser," Podrick answered, rising to his feet with a solemn expression.
"Interesting answer," Bronn blinked, then laughed.
The irritation of being dragged out to work at night faded a little.
He dropped one of the wooden rods at Podrick's feet.
"Pick it up."
The stick bounced twice on the grass.
Bronn stood lazily, posture crooked, looking like a hungry wolf sizing up prey.
Podrick looked at him.
Then at the stick.
He hesitated only a moment, then slowly crouched—never taking his eyes off Bronn—as he reached for the rod.
Bronn raised his brows, amused by the boy's caution.
"So, you're wary. Good. I thought this would be dull."
Podrick couldn't tell whether it was praise or mockery—but it didn't matter.
He was here to learn.
Only when Podrick's fingers closed around the wooden rod did he rise—slowly, silently—never taking his eyes off Bronn.
"You've got the makings of a fighter," Bronn drawled, "but you're miles from being one yet. For starters…"
"You're wound up tighter than that stick you're holding. Every muscle you've got is clenched."
"And your first lesson is this—"
Bronn tucked his own practice rod back beneath his arm and stepped forward.
He placed a hand on Podrick's shoulder, then nudged his feet apart with a tap of his boot.
"Widen your stance. Lower your center of gravity. Loosen your shoulders—your back too. Good. That's better."
Podrick listened, adjusting his posture exactly as instructed.
Bronn stepped back, gave him a once-over, and nodded with approval before meeting his eyes.
"You ready?"
"Yes."
The answer left Podrick's mouth on instinct—
CRACK!
A blur. A sting.
The world spun. Podrick found himself face-first in the grass, blinking at the earth as a sharp, burning pain bloomed across his cheek.
"Always stay alert. That's your first lesson," Bronn said, voice mocking behind him.
Podrick lay there for a moment, feeling the grass tickle his skin.
He lifted a hand, stunned, and touched the cheek that had taken the slap.
Only now did his mind catch up to what had happened.
"What's wrong, little lord? Can't get up?"
The mockery burned as much as the slap.
"On your feet."
"Yes, Ser."
Podrick snapped back to focus. He scrambled upright, ignoring the throbbing heat spreading across his face.
He reset his stance exactly as Bronn had shown him, gripping the rod with both hands, facing his instructor head-on.
His cheek was going numb. He could tell it was swelling—red, no doubt.
A flare of anger rose—instinctive, stinging—but seeing the amused curl on Bronn's lips, Podrick forced it down.
He steadied his breath. Forced calm back into his voice.
"Thank you for the lesson, Ser."
Bronn's smirk faltered—just for a heartbeat.
He hadn't expected gratitude.
Then he chuckled.
"You're better than I thought, kid."
The mockery faded from his expression, replaced by something sharper, more serious.
He pulled out his own rod, lowered into the same stance he had just taught Podrick.
And for the first time that night—Bronn looked like a real instructor.
---
> [You earnestly studied combat techniques from your instructor. Your attitude was sincere and your resolve unwavering!]
[You gained insight into life: +300 EXP]
[Congratulations! You leveled up!]
[…]
[Your instructor imparted combat knowledge and experience with genuine effort.]
[Gained Experience: +30 EXP]
[…]
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