Tell him

You attempt to explain the mechanics of gay sex to the drunken sellsword, reeling off your personal stories about stable boys and sailors and a second-cousin or two.

Bronn’s face is difficult to decipher throughout your explanation, but when you finally finish he recoils in disgust. “Ought to be ‘ung!” He snarls. “The lot o ya! Ought to be ‘ung!”

He stumbles back into the corridor, leaving you shaken and confused. You decide to forget about it and slump back into the bed.

When you wake up you think you have gone blind. You pull your eyelids with your fingers to make sure they are open, but you can see nothing except pitch black. Soon you realise the bed underneath you has changed into a wooden pallet, and when you move your legs you head the rattling of chains at your ankles.

Eventually a septon with a flaming torch visits your cell to tell you of your crime. The charge, buggary and perversion, was backed up by the good word of one of Lord Tywin’s close associates. You realise that Bronn has turned you over the authorities.

Your trial starts and ends very quickly, with no one daring to go against the testimony of one of Tywin Lannisters friends. The judge passes the **** sentence swiftly, and you are lead to the gallows in chains.