Driven by memories of Syrio Forel, and her father's insistence on being honorable, Arya decided to fight fairly. Assuming the stance Syrio taught her, she waited for her opponent to attack.
"Still using that fancy Bravoosi crap, eh?" Bronn taunted, circling her. Before Arya could respond, he was on her, raining blow after blow on the young Stark. It was all Arya could do to block the attack, the sellsword slowly forcing her against a wall. She tried to spin away but was caught by Bronn. Grabbing her with one arm, he threw her into the stone wall, the impact knocking the wind out of her.
"Give up yet?" Bronn asked, grinning. Angry, Arya lunged at him, only for him to sidestep the clumsy attack. Using his boot, he kicked a cloud of dust into the air. The dirt blinded her, stinging her eyes as she swung wildly. Bronn deflected the strike easily, landing a kick directly on Arya's sore behind. She cried out as she fell to the ground, landing hard on her stomach.
"If your enemy can't see, he can't fight," Bronn instructed, kicking Needle away.
"You're a fucking bastard!" Arya growled, trying to get up. However, she was easily pushed back down by Bronn's boot.
"I'm the fucking bastard who isn't dead," Bronn added. "You can look all fancy with your flourishes and your twirls. But if you wanna stay alive, use any advantage you can get ahold of."
His eyes roaming the sexy young girl's body, the sellsword briefly considers having a go with her. It might make his employer Melisandre mad, but she did seem pretty cross with Arya for being late. Besides, she did say to punish her however he felt was appropriate.
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