Notes:
For vava de las cavernas and downlookingup.
I'd like to thank VavaBeatle and downlookingup for helping me to translate this fic.
Your kindness is boundless ;)
And thank you to Nimuelux for being lovely, too.
The House
Jaime Lannister was sitting in front of her, casually dressed, with several days' stubble and a bruise on the corner of his mouth. His right hand was bandaged, rested on the table next to some papers, and he stared at her seriously, as if he were trying to predict her next move.
There was nothing to predict. Brienne had always been honest about her intentions and she wouldn't back out of their agreement.
When Catelyn Stark arrived, she didn't bother hiding her disapproval of Jaime. Thoughtlessly, Brienne ran her hands over the front of the jacket Dacey Mormont, her neighbor in King's Landing, had lent her. It was slightly too tight on her, but Dacey had convinced her that wearing a suit would give her more confidence during the meeting. Apparently, Jaime didn't feel the same way.
Dacey had also tried to do her makeup, but Brienne knew that, despite the effort, it wouldn't improve her appearance, and it wasn't worth it after almost a year of meetings.
"All right," Catelyn began. "Last week we established the provisions to be included in the contract, so—"
"I refuse," Jaime interrupted, his eyes never leaving Brienne.
His blond hair fell over his forehead and his eyes shone heatedly.
"What?" she stammered out, stunned. She knew her cheeks were red.
"I don't think the terms are acceptable."
"Mr. Lannister," Catelyn flipped through the file nervously, "need I remind you that most of the contract was written by your own lawyers?"
"This isn't fair," Brienne murmured.
"Legally, the house is mine."
"No, that property has been in my family for almost a century."
"That property rightfully belonged to my grandmother and, due to mysterious circumstances, it was turned over to… who was that man again?"
"We've been discussing this for months." Brienne was furious. "I've shown proof. My uncle was the owner of that house until the day he died and no one ever questioned it."
She clasped her clammy hands together, trying to calm herself. It all seemed so tragicomic.
"That evidence is still in question."
"I want my house," she said, suddenly.
"So do I."
Catelyn stood suddenly, and Brienne remembered she was still there. "Mr. Lannister, you're breaking your word—"
"Sue me." Jaime wasn't willing to give in. It reminded Brienne of their first meetings, when he'd forced her to engage in vicious bouts of verbal sparring that she'd never thought herself capable of because of her shyness.
"Jaime, I don't understand. We were in agreement last week."
"What was Ronnet Connington doing at the house last weekend?"
"I don't know," she replied, confused.
"Since I'm the mediator here…" Catelyn's voice sounded like a distant tinkling bell in Brienne's ears.
"What were you doing at the house? Why did you go?"
Jaime leaned in slightly, his bandaged hand sliding on the glass tabletop. "I called you that night."
It was strange, but she felt the need to explain herself, though she didn't know why. "I was in Tarth. I told you, I was visiting my father."
"All weekend? Without a signal?"
She remembered Connington. "What did Ron tell you?"
"Ron? Since when is he Ron?"
"He's my accountant."
In truth, he'd been a bit more than that, an unfortunate, but temporary, mistake.
"Please…" Catelyn begged.
Brienne ignored her and addressed Jaime, leaning in carefully. "I thought we had nothing else to say to each other once negotations were over."
"And when did you think that was?"
"When we went to Lannisport."
"You met ouside my office to negotiate?" Catelyn gasped.
"I didn't take you to Lannisport because of the fucking house."
Brienne blushed, and Catelyn began gathering her papers and stuffing them inside her briefcase.
"This is highly unprofessional," she said.
Brienne sighed. "I thought…"
One day, Jaime had called her to invite her to see the city. She'd thought it was a friendly attempt to settle the issue of Uncle Duncan's inheritance. After all, Jaime was right when he said that, while the house had been a gift from Jaime's grandmother, there was no deed.
Jaime ran a hand over his face. "I should have listened to Tyrion."
"It was a misunderstanding," Brienne muttered.
"Oh, Miss Tarth," Catelyn grumbled, looking at her the way the septas in boarding school had, "not even you could have misinterpreted that."
Jaime smiled, for the first time that morning. "Thank you."
"I thought you were being civilized… I need to speak with Asha."
Asha Greyjoy was her lawyer. In fact, she'd insisted that Brienne accept the invitation. She still remembered Asha's laughter over the phone when Brienne called her after returning home.
"Civilzed, yes. I can be very civilized. In fact, Ron has ample proof of it."
"You won't sell me the house because of one stupid misunderstanding?"
"I don't give a fuck about the house. Was that the only reason you accepted my invitation?"
"No," she responded quickly. And then she understood. Every piece fell into place. "No," she repeated, softly.
Catelyn was already at the door. "This is morally ambiguous."
"Far more ambiguous than I'd hoped," Jaime confessed.
The door slammed.
Brienne felt like her face and chest were on fire. Jaime had been sweet to her. He'd shown her the city, taken her to dinner and for a walk on the beach, and then back to the hotel, where he'd left her without asking for more. She'd always thought that the things he said were just clever jokes.
"You're right," she said. "The house is yours."
"I don't want it. I'll tell Tyrion to look over the papers again."
"If I don't pay for half like we agreed, I won't accept it."
He watched her again, his green eyes full of amusement.
"You're so stubborn."
"Yes."
"Can I take you to Lannisport again?"
"Yes."
He smiled, a beautiful row of perfect white teeth lighting up his face.
Brienne smiled too, resting her chin on her hand.
"What exactly did you do to my ex-accountant?"