"Wake up, Jaime."
Jaime growled and rolled over, trying to escape the attempts of his brother to wake him. He had had a good dream, something about knights and honorable quests, but he couldn't think of the details now that he was waking up. Maybe if I go back to sleep, I'll turn into a knight again …
"Well, you leave me no choice then."
A knight in a golden armor with lions on it and a white cloak. I would guard the king and -
Suddenly Jaime was splashed with ice cold water. With a scream – which was a bit too high-pitched for a guy – Jaime jumped out of his bed. His long locks stuck on his face and the water ran down his neck. It was nothing against his goosebumps and his rage. "TYRION, YOU LITTLE -"
"No cursing, please. We're in a family hotel. Kids could hear you," Tyrion said. Well, laughed would be more accurate.
"I'm going to kill you!" Jaime vowed and combed the hair out of his eyes with his fingers. "Look at my bed! It's all wet now!"
"Don't worry, the Cleaning Lady will understand. I'm sure there are always some people that have problems with -"
"Younger brothers who pour water over their siblings?" Jaime finished the sentence before Tyrion could. His little brother just smiled. "Why the hells did you do that?"
"It's almost nine and breakfast ends at half past nine. Father demanded that we should all eat together."
"We all? As in you, me, -"
"And Cersei, yes. Our dear father is off, scheming his plan to take over the hotel. I think he is in the city. Well, if you can call it a city." With a shrug, Tyrion turned around and left the room, while Jaime looked for something dry to wear.
Barely five minutes later, all three Lannister children left the apartment. Their mood was … reasonable. Jaime was still angry for being woken up by cold water, Cersei was annoyed that she had to spend time with her brothers instead of being in King's Landing with all the other persons who worship her, and Tyrion … well, he was the only one who seemed to be in a rather good mood.
"Why are you enjoying this so much?" Jaime asked. "Father uses us for his business-plans and demands us to act nicely."
"On the other side, we're get to spend two weeks at this beautiful island and in this hotel, which has been voted for the best hotel in the Storm Land's three times in a row and is in the top ten of all the hotels in Westeros. It's something special."
"It's not special," Cersei snorted. "It's boring."
"Really? I think you spend rather a lot of time in the spa if it's that boring." Tyrion grinned at his sister, who ignored him. Jaime noticed that she wore her bikini underneath her dress. Had she planned to not go back to the room after breakfast?
The dining hall wasn't as crowded as in the evening. All families with the younger kids were already finished and there were quite a few teenagers, who looked like they rather be in bed than having breakfast now. After they all got something to eat, they settled for a table near the balcony, far away from all the others. Jaime was sure that wasn't what Tywin had had in mind, but they were always by themselves. Some things never change.
Jaime just started eating his third pancake, as he heard Cersei chuckled. Questionably he looked at his twin – most of the time it was never that good when Cersei was in a good mood –, who nodded towards the door. "Your cow-teacher."
She was right. Brienne just entered the hall, as awkward as ever, looking down at her feet. "Don't let Father hear that, Cersei," Tyrion said and sipped at his orange juice. "At least not when Mr Tarth is around. He seemed rather fond of her."
"She is his daughter," Jaime said. "Of course he is. That's normal." They all knew, that Tywin Lannister was not normal. He watched Brienne as she got her breakfast and tried to steal out of the room again without anyone noticing her.
Unfortunate for her, that didn't work out. She was stopped by the dark-haired guy, before she reached the door. Jaime tried to remember his name. H-something. He talked to her, while she just looked down at her plate, and shook her head from time to time. But the guy didn't accepted a no, and almost pushed her to a table, where some other guys sat. Quickly, Brienne walked around the table, and sat down next to a guy around fourteen years with thin, straight hair, who looked almost as uncomfortable as Brienne. H-guy sat in front of her and started to talk again.
Turning back to his pancakes, Jaime decided, he didn't care what the guy was talking about. Sure, it had been fun to piss him off and embarrass Brienne yesterday, but other than that he didn't care. If H-guy wanted to be friends with stick-in-her-ass Brienne, fine. It wasn't his problem.
"That girl," Cersei said, making girl sound like an insult. "She's not even noticing, he is flirting with her."
"How can you tell?" Jaime asked and looked over to the other table. For him, it just looked like talking. Well, normal talking, not flirting-talking.
On the other side, every type of talking looked like a extreme punishment for Girly.
"Body language."
"You're making that one up."
"Just because you're an idiot and don't notice anything, it doesn't mean everyone is an idiot." For a second, Cersei glanced at her twin, and Jaime wondered, when exactly they became so hateful towards each other. But Cersei's attention was already back to Brienne. "She should take every offer she gets, and not decline it. He is most likely the best she can get."
Even Jaime could tell, that she had no interest in talking to H-guy, whether it was flirting or not.
"Dear sister, you're especially ruthless this morning. Did something happen?" Tyrion asked and cut his omelet.
"I'm not ruthless," Cersei hissed. "She just annoys me."
"You almost sound jealous," Jaime said, which was probably the most ridiculous thing ever. Why in the seven hells should she be jealous of a girl like Brienne? Cersei looked far better, had a better life-style, a successful career and lived in King's Landing, which was far more interesting than Tarth.
"I'm not!"
"Jaime is right. You are." Cersei mumbled something, but none of her brothers paid any attention at it. "Why are you jealous, Cersei?"
"I told you, I am not!"
"You get pretty aggressive for someone who is not jealous."
"Are you actually allowing him to talk to me like that?" Cersei asked Jaime. That was the Cersei he knew; always demanding.
"You wound me," Tyrion said before Jaime had the chance to open his mouth. "I was just trying to figure out why you would be jealous while you have obviously everything someone could want." Slowly, he cocked his head to the site, and Jaime knew that Tyrion had planned the outcome of this conversation the minute he started it. "Or are you jealous because she will actually get the kind of power you want, but Father will never give you?"
Cersei gave Tyrion a look that could kill – he on the other side just smiled – and left the hall. A lot of heads turned as she walked by, which Jaime tried to ignore. "Do you always have to be like that?"
"She started it."
"Tyrion …" Jaime sighed.
"For all my life, Cersei and I did not get along. I would even dare to say, that she despises me. You don't expect us to make up just because we spend our vacation together, do you?"
Once again, Jaime had no chance to answer. His phone rang and there was only one person who would call him now. All of his friends – or the people that he called friends, but were actually nothing more than acquaintances – knew that he was away with his family and wouldn't dare to disturb him. The rest of his family, who was not stranded on this island, never called him besides for his name day. Jaime suppressed a sigh and accepted the call, while Tyrion finished his breakfast quickly.
"Jaime," his father's voiced rang into his ear. "You're awake."
"Good morning to you, too, Father. I was wondering, what must be so important, that you can't have breakfast together with your own children during the family vacation. Do you-"
"Enough of that. I have no time for that."
"Of course you don't," Jaime muttered under his breath. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Tyrion gesturing. Something about the door and something Jaime couldn't tell what it was. He just nodded and Tyrion left.
"Don't forget your surfing lesson." For any other parent it would have been something normal to remind their teenage son of his activities – any other parent than Tywin Lannister, who had other motives. "You are closest to the girl at the moment, and you need to gain her trust."
"You make it sound like I'm a spy and she is the enemy." For a second Jaime pictured himself dressed like a ninja, clinging to the ceiling, trailing Brienne, who was dressed in a long, black trench coat with an eye patch, looking evil and suspicious. Even though Jaime couldn't see his father's face, he was sure Tywin was frowning. Jaime sighed. His father never had been a fun person. "For what exactly do I need her to trust me?"
Jaime was almost immediately sorry he asked.
"To convince her that she should not study, so I can get a Lannister into the hotel."
"And Tyrion won the bet," Jaime sighed.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Do go on."
"Jaime," his father said in a voice, which did not accept anything else than dutifulness. "You may not be interested in the company now, but you are the heir to Lannister & Partners and one day you have to think about things like that. I expect you to fulfill your task."
And just like that, his father had ended the call. For a second, Jaime looked at his phone. Of course he could argue with his father. After all, he never wanted Lannister & Partners. It sounded death boring to him. Besides, Tyrion was excellent for the job. He understood the contracts, the conditions and all the arguing and important things even before his thirteen birthday. He would be a better CEO than Jaime ever could be. But their father wouldn't allow it. With a sigh, Jaime put his phone back into his pocket and left the dinning hall.
Jaime had five and a half hours to kill before his surfing lesson would start and he had no clue what to do. It wasn't like there wasn't anything to do. Quite the opposite: there was so much to do, Jaime just couldn't decide on something. He could go down to the beach, to the pools, to the small water park – even though it was basically just for younger children –, to the gym, play mini golf, visit the cinema, go to the library, visit the soccer or tennis courts or – really, there was so much too do, Jaime couldn't even remembered everything. Who needed all that anyway?
In the end, he decided to do the only thing that sounded reasonable at the moment – to take a nap. Maybe he could get some of the hours which Tyrion stole him earlier.
On the way back, he passed a basketball court. His originally plan had been to just walk by as quickly as possible, while looking as normal as possible, but suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks.
There was a ball. It laid there, like someone forgot it or left it there to pick it up later. Jaime could remember, that you had to rent some balls and bring them back, if you haven't brought your own ball. Maybe someone took a break and would come back any second to collect the ball and bring it back to the reception.
Just keep going, Jaime thought with his eyes fixed on the orange ball. It's not your business. You're not allowed to play anyway.
But despise telling himself that he should ignore the ball, he walked up closer. So close, that his right foot was just an inch away from the ball. Slowly, Jaime picked up the ball and moved it in his hands. There was still no one coming to get the ball. Carefully, he bounced it on the ground a few times.
I could try it, he thought. Just one time. To prove myself that it's still not working.
A bit nervous – of course he would deny it if anybody asked him – Jaime bounced the ball on more time and threw it. He felt a stab of pain in his wrist and the ball hit the high chain-linked fence instead of the basket. Before his accident, he wouldn't have missed. Jaime stared at the ball rather frustrated, while it slowly rolled back to his feet.
That's stupid. I knew it wouldn't work. Why did I even try? I could be in bed right now.
However, Jaime picked up the ball again. Like before, he dribbled the ball a couple of times and tried to get the feeling of control back. After all, he hadn't really touched a ball for four months. Maybe he just needed a bit of time.
He threw the ball again.
It hit the fence again.
"I'm going now," Jaime said more to himself than to anyone at all – mostly because he was still on his own. He truly felt like an idiot. There was no point in trying.
Jaime especially felt like an idiot after not a single one of his five following tries were successful. He had tried to throw the ball with his right and with his left hand, but both had been really bad. The last one missed the board just by an inch, but that was as close as it got.
"Fuck!" Jaime angrily screamed and threw the ball at the fence. It was more powerful than he intended, because the ball bounced back and flew over his shoulder. For a second, Jaime just stood there with his eyes closed, before he turned around to leave the court for good.
For the second time this morning, he stopped dead.
Jaime wasn't alone anymore.
And of all the possible people in the whole hotel, it had to be Brienne Tarth, who stood there and looked at him with her big, blue eyes. The basketball lay to her feet, but she did not pick it up. Somehow that was too much for Jaime. He couldn't stand her gaze while he felt so ashamed. Wasn't it enough that she saw his poorly excuse of surfing? Did she also have to see his now non-existing basketball-talent?
"How long have you been there?" he asked and sounded way cooler than he had intended. "Did nobody teach you to not stare at other people?"
Finally she looked down, another blush spreading out over her face. She opened her mouth, no doubt to stutter some excuse – because until now she had been nothing but fucking polite – but no words came out of it.
"If you want to say something, just say it. I'm not a fucking lip-reader."
"How long are you playing basketball?" she asked and looked up again. Jaime hesitated, because Brienne looked like she actually wanted to now the answer. Not one of those polite-questions, but an honest one. But right now, he was way too frustrated with the whole situation to be nice. Fuck his father's plans. He doubted that he would get along with Brienne anyway.
"Do I look like I can play basketball?" Jaime asked in a low voice and a sharp, gruel grin on his face.
"I saw you. You can tell that you have some experiences."
"Well, maybe you need to check your eyes, because the ball never landed in the basket. Not one of the best conditions for basketball-players, don't you think?" She didn't answer – at least not with words. Her eyes darted to his right hand. His hand covered in scars. His broken hand.
His first instinct was to hide his hand. He did it all the time with Cersei, because she couldn't stand to look at it. However he could see nothing of Cersei's disgust in her eyes, though there was something else. It wasn't that easy to decipher, because she wasn't looking into his eyes, but still at the scars that covered his hand. Was it … pity?
Oh, that was even worse than disgust.
"Are you looking at this?" he asked and lifted his right hand. For a second she looked straight into his eyes, blushed, before she looked away. "C'mon, don't be shy. Look at it." She didn't. Her eyes were fixed on the ball. Slowly, Jaime's frustration turned into anger. "Look at it!"
Brienne jumped slightly, but Jaime got what he wanted. She looked at his hand, every scar, every bit of skin that looked grotesque, and finally, she looked into his eyes. "I -" She started, but stopped herself. It looked like she wanted to look away again, but she changed her mind in the last second. "What happened?"
"Stuff."
"How long were you playing?"
"Long."
Her lips turned into a thin line, obviously not happy with the little bit of information she was getting. But he wouldn't tell her what happened. It was none of her business and he didn't need her pity. He didn't need the anyone's pity.
"You should try to use your left hand."
"I already told you, that you need to check your eyes. I used with my left hand and it was as bad as always."
"You just need to practice. Nobody is a natural."
"Oh, really?" Now, he smiled again, but he knew it was a smug, sarcastic smile. "Girly, I was a natural, before this happened." He hold his hand in the air again. "Ever since I hold a basketball in my hand, I was good at it. No, not good, but the best. And now I can't even aim properly anymore. So don't tell me, I just need to practice, because you have no idea, what happened."
Brienne just looked at him. The pity in her eyes was gone, but there was something else, that unsettled him. Jaime couldn't stand that something else. Without saying another word, he left the basketball court, bumping rather fiercely into her shoulder as he passed her. She didn't try to stop him, but just stared down at her feet again.
Jaime wasn't even thinking where he was going, but somehow his feet did the job by themselves, and he got to the apartment. All he did was kicking off his shoes and jumped on the coach to sleep – after all his bed was still wet. Angry and way too frustrated, Jaime closed his eyes and tried to force himself to sleep. Maybe he could sleep straight through the next twelve days, so he could get up, leave and never see all those things again. Never seeing Tarth again, never seeing Girly again and especially not her eyes. Annoyed, Jaime groaned, turned around, and tried to sleep again.
It didn't work of course. His thoughts were jumping around, from one corner of his memories to another. It was really weird, what you were thinking about, when you wanted to sleep. His accident, Brienne, his surfing lessons, Tarth, Casterly Rock, King's Landing, Cersei, his father, his brother – and his mother.
Thinking about his dead mother calmed Jaime and made him sad at the same time. Joanna Lannister was their mother, Tywin's beloved wife – and it was still a strange thought for anyone that Tywin had been capable of loving someone … needless to say, that after her death, he got even colder and all his love died inside of him – and she was dead for almost seventeen years. It will be seventeen years as soon as Tyrion would turn seventeen. She died giving birth to him. One of the many reasons why Cersei hated her youngest brother and the one of the two reasons why Tywin hated him.
Jaime couldn't really remember the looks of his mother. Tywin had banned all pictures of her, and he had been too young to properly memorize her face. In his mind, he always imagined her like Cersei, older but not less beautiful. If he could trust the words of his aunt Genna – who was one of his favorite relatives and had the, sometimes awfully annoying, talent to be unashamedly honest – Cersei took after her father, while Jaime had the gentle heart and was the romantic just like his mother. That weren't exactly the words every teenage boy wanted to hear, but he was still a little bit proud of it.
When they had been fourteen years old, Cersei had found some of their mother's old jewelery. Golden rings, pendants, combs and necklaces decorated with rubies and delicate and beautiful engravings of lions. Lannister jewelery, Cersei had called it. No doubt the most expensive things you could get in Westeros. Of course, Cersei had tried them on – Jaime hadn't been able to stop gaping at her, because she looked so beautiful – and kept them. All but a single ring, whose ruby hadn't been big enough for her liking. She had tossed it to him, saying he should give it to his future wife, and left with the box full of jewelery. At that point Jaime had been sure, that he would give that ring to Cersei, but now …
He still had the ring. It always reminded him of her. Suddenly he regretted that he hadn't took the golden ring with the small ruby. Maybe it could make him feel better. Still being sad, Jaime drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Someone tapped on his shoulder. Jaime muffled a groan into the pillow and turned his head to the other side, away from the annoying someone who just wouldn't stop tapping him.
"It's your choice, Jaime. Either you get up now, or I will get some more ice water."
For a second, Jaime just laid there, not moving and considering if his brother would actually dare to repeat that foul stunt from the morning. Than he remembered who he was talking about, turned his head and opened his eyes to look at his brother. A big smile was plastered on his face.
"You're getting better at making the right decisions! If you keep it up, someday you will actually use your brain."
"Shut up," Jaime mumbled. "Why are you always waking me up?"
"Because I'm a caring brother, so his older brother wouldn't be late for his surfing lesson."
Jaime looked around for a clock at once. How long did he actually sleep? Surely not that long. "How late is it?"
"Almost half past three," Tyrion answered.
"I need to be there at four!"
"C'mon, you can't be in here all day long. You missed lunch."
"I'm not hungry." His stomach betrayed him and growled rather loudly. Tyrion laughed good-naturally and Jaime threw his pillow at him.
"I'm sure there is something in the fridge." Tyrion picked up the pillow and threw it back at Jaime, who caught it and stood up. While walking to the small fridge in their apartment in their kitchen – which was probably the most useless thing in the whole resort, because who would cook if they had the dining hall? –, he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "Seriously, how can you sleep all day long?"
"I was tired."
"I think you are bored, and that's why you sleep."
"That's stupid."
"It's not."
"What did you do, then?" Jaime asked and turned around to look at his brother, who leaned against the couch. In one hand, Jaime had an apple – the best thing he had found – and took a bite. It was actually quite nice. "Other than sitting in a dark room full of books and reading, of course."
"Oh, I did a few things. I met some other guests, played mini-golf, learned how to play dart. You know, stuff you do, when you're on your vacation."
"You made some friends? How lovely. Did you already tell them that they will never be good enough for our father or our family name, and therefore he will bribe them or their parents to stop every contact to you? I'm sure that's a great start for a friendship!"
He sounded way more bitter than he had intended to. His father's voice boomed inside his head. You are a Lannister. You will not waste your time with people who are underneath your standard. Friends are a waste of time. No doubt the words had left an impact, but Cersei had been worse. She lived for their father's words, treating everyone like they weren't good enough for her and never interact with anybody unless they were useful for her.
Just like he had been useful for her.
"But this time, it's quite different," Tyrion said and ignored the bitterness of his older brother. It was the best thing to do. "Father wants us to make friends."
"He never said that."
"Well, he wants us to look like a normal-functional family and normal teenagers. Normal teenagers make friends." Jaime snorted and took another bite of his apple. "You should try it, too."
"Who should I make friends with? Brienne?" He laughed. The thought was absurd. Girly clearly had not a little bit of sympathy for him, even though she said not a single rude word about him. She didn't need to say something. He could read it in her blue eyes. Kinda pretty, blue eyes.
"She isn't that bad." Tyrion waddled to a chair and sat down on it. Jaime almost chocked on his apple.
"Don't tell me you made friends with Girly." The image of Tyrion and her being friends was so hilarious, Jaime couldn't help but grin. They would look ridiculous next to each other. He was probably half of her height. Tyrion frowned, clearly guessing, what he was thinking about, but didn't comment on it.
"No, not with Brienne. But with a guy, Pod. He takes some surfing lessons as well. Not private ones, but the ones in a group. He told me, she is a really good teacher and a good person."
"It's not like you can actually judge that. I've spend more time with her than you did."
"Yes, but right now, you're actually on an I-hate-everything-and-everyone-oh-my-gods-my-life-sucks-so-much-path. You're not objective."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Angrily, Jaime stared at his brother.
"Ever since your accident, you're not yourself anymore. You're bitter and you don't enjoy life anymore. I'm worried about you." He was unusual serious. Jaime could deal with Tyrion making jokes and being carefree. He always had been like that. Most likely, that was the easiest way for him to deal with all the family chaos they were born into. But being this serious … Jaime couldn't remember the last time, he had seen him like that.
"You don't have to worry about me," Jaime finally said through gritted teeth. Worry was much too similar to pity in Jaime's eyes. He didn't want any of it.
"I'm your brother. Of course I worry about you," his brother said and rolled his eyes. Jaime wanted to say something, but Tyrion stopped him by raising a hand. "I know that it had been a big shock for you. But it's not the end of the world. Life goes on. Broken bones heal."
"If you say so," was all Jaime said, before he turned around to toss his half-eaten apple into the bin. He wouldn't expect Tyrion to understand, what his broken hand meant to him. For all their lives, Jaime had had basketball and Tyrion his brain. A brain couldn't be taken as easily as a hand.
Behind him, Tyrion sighed heavily. "I see there is no point in cheering you up. Nevertheless, I think I should get you out of this room."
"I already told you, that it's over an hour until -"
"We can wait at the beach. The view is breathtaking and the sun will be good for you. Get some vitamin D and sunlight. I think you're actually getting pale." With mocking concern, Tyrion looked at Jaime. That was the Tyrion he knew.
"I'm not getting pale. Ever," Jaime said and looked at his golden skin.
Ten minutes later, after they both changed into their shorts and grabbed their towels, they walked down to the beach anyway. Jaime's mood was still not the best, but Tyrion chattered at ease, if their conversation hadn't been happening. The beach was just as full as the other day. Tyrion whistled as he saw the view and took out his phone to take a picture for Shae. Jaime could taste something bitter on his tongue, but he ignored it and climbed down the wooden stairs until his toes were buried in the soft sand. As they looked for a nice spot to lay down, Jaime felt the stares on them. Some girls were giggling as they passed, and Tyrion winked at them, but Jaime ignored them all. In the end, they chose a spot similar to his spot yesterday to have some privacy. Just as Jaime had laid down and put on his sunglasses, his brother nudged him in his side.
"What?" he grunted.
"It's Brienne with her other students."
Even though Jaime really tried to just ignore it and not move an inch, he sat up and looked over the water. Tyrion was right. He could spot Girly easily – clearly the tallest of them all, watching over the her students. All in all there were seven people in the group, who all tried to stand up and not fall of their board immediately.
"That's Pod," Tyrion said and pointed to a boy who stood on his board with wobbly legs. It was the boy from the morning, who had looked just as awkward as Brienne. He lost his balance as a rather big wave hit his board and fell into the water. Brienne shouted something to him, but Jaime couldn't understand it.
Just as Jaime wanted to lay back and enjoy the sun, his gaze fell on H-guy. Out of the group, he may have been the best student. At least he didn't fall into the water right away. He stayed close to Girly as well, obviously trying to impress her. Even from his spot, Jaime could tell, that she was not impressed. With her jaw set and her eyes determinedly fixed on all the others, she looked rather annoyed.
"His name is Hyle Hunt," Tyrion said with a smile on his lips, as he saw what his brother was looking at.
"Is he your friend now as well?" Jaime asked and tried to sound nonchalant, while he laid back down.
"No, I asked Pod about him. He was following her the whole day, flirting and talking to her, trying to help. She turned him down all the time, but he wouldn't listen." Tyrion stopped for a second, before he went on. "Do you remember what Mr Tarth said yesterday? About a dear friend pulling some strings, so Brienne could go to Highgarden? You never guess who it was."
"Olenna Tyrell?" Jaime asked, because her name was the first name that popped in his head, when he thought about Highgarden. She was basically the female version of Tywin Lannister. The Tyrells were a powerful and old family, and if it came to anything related to botanic, make-up or fashion, there was no one better then them. But you should never underestimate them. Just because they smiled sweetly, didn't mean their heads were filled with air.
"Close. Margaery Tyrell."
"You're kidding." Jaime popped himself up on his elbows, and looked at his brother. Margaery Tyrell was Olenna's granddaughter, and almost the total opposite of Brienne. She was beautiful – though not as beautiful as Cersei in Jaime's eyes – and got quite famous for doing a lot of charity-work. Cersei was bitching around for weeks, as she saw the campaign the young Tyrell had done in the magazines, claiming that she would steal her crown as the new, successful model.
"No, really, I couldn't believe it myself," Tyrion said.
"How did they even met?"
"Apparently Renly Baratheon comes here quite regular, and last year he came together with the Tyrells. Pod couldn't tell me all the details, but he said you couldn't see Brienne without Margaery, Loras or Renly by her side. Renly and Loras took some private surfing lessons as well."
"Why would anyone become so … obsessed with her?"
"Ask Hyle Hunt. Or our dear father. Oh, I forgot to ask: did he already commanded you to talk her out of going to a university?"
Jaime huffed, ignored the last sentence and closed his eyes. Girly was a mystery for him. Why would anyone want to hang out with her all the time? She had no wit at all, no social-skills and couldn't even look you into the eyes. Not exactly his first choice
For the next hour, Tyrion just wouldn't let Jaime have some peace. He kept praising the soft, almost white sand and the unique shade of the ocean, he forced him to build a little, crappy sandcastle with him, and even chased him down into the water. It was as cold as it had been yesterday, and as a punishment, Jaime easily threw his little brother into the waves. He had to admit, that it had been fun and the time passed way quicker than just lying around and waiting. So when he finally went to the surfing cabin, he couldn't suppress his smile that had snugged on his face. Tyrion waddled along with him, saying he wanted to see him surf and saying hi to Pod, who just got out of the water together with the other students.
Jaime didn't go to Pod, though. Instead he was watching Brienne, who was once again followed by Hunt. You could pin down the exact moment when she lost her confidence again. A part of him wanted to turn around and go, still embarrassed about what happened at the basketball court. Another part told him, that he shouldn't be such a coward. Why should he care what Girly thought about him?
Maybe it was his good mood from fooling around with Tyrion or the annoying sight of Hunt not getting the hint that Brienne didn't want to talk to him, but before Jaime could figure out why he was walking towards them, he was already halfway there, his big grin still on his face. She saw him first, and for a second he thought, he saw something like relief flicker in her eyes, before she looked confused and stared at her feet again. Seriously, how could the Tyrells like her so much, that they talk her into going to Highgarden for school? Hunt noticed him just as he stood directly in front of them.
"Jaime," she greeted him. "I didn't except you … this early." Her tone made clear that she didn't excepted him to come at all. It seemed like he wasn't the only one, who felt weird about the morning.
"Well, I looked forward to this all day long, Girly." She frowned again and he knew that she knew he was lying. "Should we start?"
"She has to help me first, right, Brie?" Hunt interrupted before Brienne could answer. He looked rather annoyed at Jaime – however that was nothing against Brienne, who looked like she would prefer to do a lot of other things instead of helping him, but her face changed back into a polite mask quickly.
"Sadly she has to help me pick a wetsuit and getting my board, and because it's already four o'clock …" He shrugged and smiled apologetic at Hunt, not meaning it in the slightest. But he didn't stop there. Jaime put his arm around Brienne's shoulders – which was a bit weird, because she was taller than him – and almost pushed her towards the cabin. "She is all mine now, remember?"
Brienne mumbled "sorry" half-heartily over her shoulder, but didn't protest as he led her to the cabin. Even through the wetsuit, Jaime could feel every tense muscle inside of her body. "Thanks," she stuttered under her breath, as they were safely out of Hunt's earshot.
"What did you say?" Jaime asked and leaned closer, pretending he hadn't understand that. He couldn't stop the somewhat satisfied grin. "Could you repeat that?"
"I asked what your size is. For your wetsuit."
He sighed. That was what he got for helping someone. Could this vacation could get any worse?
It could. Jaime realized it almost exactly a day later.
His second surfing lesson had been pretty much just like his first one – embarrassing attempts to stand up and keep his balance on the board. It didn't really encouraged him that Tyrion was still there and watching him. And not only Tyrion; Hunt was there, too, Tyrion's new friend Pod, and some staff-guys. Being watched wasn't something new for Jaime. After all, he had been watched during all his game. This was different, though, because he had been great at his games.
After some time, he got quite frustrated, and there was only one person close to him: Brienne. She really had to get some credit for not snapping at him the first time; she did it after the sixth time. "Just ignore them," she said. There was a sharp edge in her voice, and once again Jaime had the feeling, that she wasn't saying what she wanted to say. "They are at the beach, we're out here."
"But we have to get back at some point, and then they will -"
"Then get yourself together and give them no reason to make fun of you." She sounded way more fiercely than Jaime would have suspected, and there was something in her eyes, that made him swallow his comment. Instead he concentrated on the surfing. To be honest, he felt pretty good afterwards.
That was, until he saw Girly surf.
While he got out of the water, she stayed, just seeing him off to the beach, where some guy in a blue shirt waited, and then she ran back into the waves. If he thought she looked confident and powerful just sitting on the board, he couldn't find words to describe her now. Brienne stood up in the blink of an eye, standing on the board as steady as if she would be walking on solid ground. Every move and every turn was perfect, and even from the beach, Jaime could see how her muscles worked under her skin. He couldn't deny it: he was impressed.
Which made him feel worse about himself.
At dinner, Tywin Lannister was back. They didn't have to endure another dinner with the Tarths, which didn't improve their father's mood. Tyrion chattered about Jaime's lesson, even though nobody besides Jaime was listening. Cersei seemed to have made some friends of her own – well, more like some subjects – and after dinner she disappeared to meet them at the bar.
The next day didn't start with a cold shower, which was a plus. After their breakfast – and this morning, Tywin waited until after breakfast, before he vanished again to do some business-stuff … however he didn't forget to remind Jaime of his mission to get Brienne to not study – Jaime spent some time with Tyrion, while their sister laid at the pool with her new friends.
Tyrion forced Jaime to play mini golf, they went to the cinema and met Pod, who tried to escape his family as well – even though he wanted to escape them for a few moments, not for their entire stay like the Lannisters. Jaime decided, he tolerated him. For his taste, Pod was talking way too less and was not witty enough to keep up with the Lannister brothers, but there was something about him that was endearing. Maybe it was just the fact, that he did everything Tyrion told him.
Throughout the whole day, Jaime saw Brienne's tall figure everywhere. She played soccer with some kids, helped cleaning the tables, collected all the balls from the courts, giving a hand wherever it was needed, or just talked to some guests. Well, she tried to talk to the guests, but she ended up talking to their feet. He spotted Hunt as well, always lingering close to Brienne and trying to talk to her. Girly was clearly annoyed, but she never told him to get lost.
After lunch, the weather changed. Some thick, fluffy clouds covered the clear, blue sky and it got windy. By the time it was time for Jaime to get down to the beach, there was not a single, tiny spot of blue left on the sky, and the wind got quite chilly. Tyrion decided to go to the library instead and Jaime couldn't be angry about it.
This time, Hunt didn't stay longer to talk with Brienne. As fast as he could, he changed out of his wetsuit and disappeared to get under a warm shower. Brienne gave Jaime the wetsuit and as he left the little changing room again, she was talking to one of the other surfing teachers. Some other guys started to put things away.
"What were you talking about, Girly?" he asked, as she went over to him.
"Brienne," she corrected him – just like always. "They asked me, if it's okay if they go. They're part of the show tonight, and because it doesn't look like there will be a lot of people hiring surfboards, they want to leave early." In fact, the few people, that had been at the beach, were leaving as well.
Oh, right, those shows. Every night there was a show in the small amphitheater next to the pools, and everyone from the staff had to participate in it. Tyrion forced him to go yesterday. Galladon had been dancing on the stage, waving, smiling and laughing – Brienne hadn't been there.
"The weather is not really nice," Jaime said, because he didn't know what else to say. Besides, the water looked rough. The waves were at least twice as tall as the other days. Brienne took a look over her shoulder and nodded.
"I know. It will be a bit of a challenge for you, but we'll see how you do. Fasten the leash around your ankle properly." She turned around and Jaime rolled his eyes, before he put the bit of cloth around his ankle. It was the thousandth time she said that.
Jaime would never ever say again, that standing up had been difficult the past two days. At least he had been able to stand up. Now? Close to impossible. He was even worse than at his first lesson. Even Brienne, who normally sat like a statue on her board, not moving in the slightest, was having trouble now. Well, not really trouble, but she actually needed to concentrate, to keep her balance.
"That's enough!" she screamed after what could have been ten minutes or two hours. She had to scream, because the wind had picked up even more. "There is no point! Back to the beach!"
Probably for the first time ever, Jaime didn't object. He was cold, frustrated and he had cursed quite bad – but he knew that it was useless. If Brienne was having trouble, how could he do it?
She laid on her board, and paddled back to the beach, using the waves for her benefit and got back to the beach quickly. Jaime tried to copy that move …
And that was were everything went wrong.
A big wave hit him and threw him from the board. For a second, he didn't had any sense of orientation, a current pushed him left, then right, up and down, and suddenly he felt a sharp pull at his ankle. As his head finally broke through the surface, he was panting for air, just to get hit by another big wave. This time, he managed to stay above the water. He coughed as he swallowed some of the water, and then there was a strong hand on his arm, that pulled him back to the beach, until he had some ground under his feet.
"Are you okay?" Brienne looked at him, and in her eyes Jaime could see some genuine concern. All he could do was to nod while coughing. But instead of being relieved – maybe she was for a second – she looked around the water. Slowly she started to frown, and Jaime knew he did something, that she didn't liked. "Where is the board?"
"What?" he said, still sounding out of breath. "What board?"
"Your surfboard. Where is it?" Just now, Jaime realized that his board wasn't attached to his foot anymore and nowhere near them. In fact, it was a good way out there, getting caught in a strong current, and despite all the waves, it was getting further and further away, somewhat pulled down under the water.
"I think the leash got of."
"I told you to do it properly!"
"Sorry, I was almost drowning! Next time I forget about my life and just save the board!" He was glaring at her, and there was this look in here eyes again, like she wanted to scream at him, but she didn't. Instead she took a deep breath to calm herself down, though Jaime really doubted that it worked.
"Get back to the beach and change out of the wetsuit. I get the board." Without even looking at him, she jumped into the waves. Jaime waited until he saw her head emerge from the water again, before he turned around, and stalked to the beach.
That had been the original plan.
However, Jaime found himself stopping after a few steps and turned back around. Brienne was a good swimmer. Even though she had to get through the waves, she was quite fast – but the board was still too far away to touch it. His eyes followed the course of the board, and he saw a group of big, sharp and really uncomfortable looking rocks, that towered out of the water. If she wouldn't reach the board on time, it would unavoidably crash against the rocks.
She'll get it, he though. She knows, what she is doing. After all, this is her home. She knows about the rocks. She wouldn't be so stupid to get to close to them.
He wanted to turn around, go back, and change into something warmer, but it was like his feet weren't moving. All he could do, was standing there, holding his breath, and watching Brienne, silently cheering – or praying – for her to reach the board, before she would get too close to the rocks.
He got what he wanted.
Partly.
Brienne reached the board, before it could hit the rocks. But she didn't had no more luck than that. Jaime reasoned, that there had to be an especially strong current, because he couldn't think of any reason, why Brienne couldn't get away from her spot, even though she was trying.
"No … no, no, no," Jaime muttered, and suddenly his feet were moving again. But in the wrong direction. Instead of going to the beach, he was going deeper into the water. "Girly!"
His scream didn't reach her. Another wave hit her, and this time, Brienne's head didn't stay above the water. Without wasting another second, Jaime dove head first into the water, and started to swim. He wasn't bad at swimming, after all Casterly Rock was at the coast as well. When he had been a little boy, he had spent a lot of time in the water. Unfortunately, that was too long ago as that Jaime could have called himself such a good swimmer as Brienne.
His eyes were fixed on the spot near the rocks, where he had seen her straw-like hair the last time. He hadn't seen her since then, and slowly he was starting to panic. How long was she underwater? Had she been thrown against one of the rocks while being underwater? And what if -
There! Jaime saw her head, and started to speed up. He could recognize the look of disorientation and confusion on her face. One hand was wrapped around the leash of board, and as soon as she knew which direction she had to go, she started to swim again. Luckily she somehow got out of the current. A bit of hope started to rise inside of Jaime. She could get out of there by herself. He had made a fool of himself, believing she would be in some kind of trouble.
Speaking of the devil.
He would never have that thought again.
A massive wave – at least it looked massive for Jaime, but maybe he was starting to imagine things – hit Brienne, and she was back in the current. She hadn't been prepared for that. Jaime was only a few meters away from her, as he saw her being dashed against the biggest of the rocks.
Brienne!, he screamed in his head, but the words never left his lips. He was swimming faster as he ever did before, eyes fixed on Brienne, who managed to get a hold on the rock, to keep herself from hitting the rock again. There was blood on her face. A lot. However she hadn't figured a way out of the situation yet. At least not without letting go of the board.
It didn't took him long to reach her now. Because he more or less knew, where the current was, he carefully tried to avoid that area – someone, most likely Tyrion, told him once, that you should swim across a current – and got to Brienne. As soon as he was close enough, he grabbed her arm, and pulled her back to the beach.
Jaime hadn't seen her disbelieving gaze, and maybe it was better that way. He swam across the current, and back to the beach, which wasn't that easy, because he wouldn't let go of her arm, even as he knew – or at least some part of him knew – that it was fine now, and he didn't had to worry anymore. Brienne tried to get free, but he wouldn't loosen his grab until only their ankles were left in the water.
His legs were shaking, though he couldn't tell if it was from the exhaustion or from his anger. For a second Jaime just stood there, catching his breath, and freezing, while Brienne got out of the water. Maybe she should have waited.
"Are you completely out of your fucking mind?!" Jaime screamed at her. Brienne didn't even flinched, she didn't even turn around at all. All she did was taking the other board, which she had left on the beach earlier, and walking towards the cabin. Her walk was a bit shaky, but Jaime wasn't quite sure, if it was from the accident or because she carried two boards at once. "Hey! I'm talking to you, you stupid, ugly cow!"
Angrily he chased after her, and blocked her way. For a second she looked in his eyes – partly he recognized the shocked look, and where there tears in her eyes as well? –, before she was looking at the sand, and tried to walk past him. He wouldn't let her pass. There was a long scratch over her cheek, and the blood dyed half of her neck red. "You will not just walk away!"
"I need to put the boards away," she said. Her voice sounded way more steady than she looked. For a second, Jaime was baffled – seriously, who had that kind of priorities? – and Brienne used it to get past him.
He could feel the sarcastic chuckle in his chest, because, really, was this some kind of joke? But he didn't laugh. He was too angry for it. Abrupt, he turned around, took one of the boards out of her hands, almost slammed it into all the other boards instead of putting it away properly, and did the same with the other boards. Brienne just looked at him as if he had lost his mind, but Jaime grabbed her arm, and shoved her into the wooden cabin. She struggled, but after he made a sound that sounded like a growl, she didn't fight him anymore. Tyrion once said, that he looked like an angry lion when he was angry. Briefly he wondered, if Brienne thought the same.
"Sit," he commanded her, and looked around the cabin. It was small. There was a desk with some formulas, and another one with used coffee-mugs. Some lockers were next to a mirror, and Jaime opened them to look for a first-aid-kit.
"Thanks for your help, but -" Brienne started, before Jaime interrupted her with a humorless laugh.
"Well, you better fucking thank me. And now shut up until I found a something for your wound."
"I'm fine," she said.
"No, you're not. You're insane for jumping after that stupid board! How many boards do you have? Fifty? Hundred? Was it worth to risk your life for one fucking board? Is it made out of fucking gold?" Finally, he found the little bright orange box, and took it back to the table. Brienne was sitting on the edge of the table, but instead of avoiding his gaze, he was a bit surprised to find her looking at him. No, not looking. Glaring. "You think it was my fault, don't you?"
"I -," she started, but stopped again. Slowly she took a deep breath. Her words sounded very forced, and he could hear the anger in them. "Of course not."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jaime yelled. Brienne flinched slightly, but she was still looking at him. "You think it's my fault, because the leash wasn't tight enough."
"I-"
"Don't lie to me! I hate it when people do it, and you're the worst liar I have ever seen, so do not fucking lie to me!"
This time, she didn't move at all, but just stared at him. It was probably the longest time she had looked him in the eyes, and even though he really wanted to just concentrate on his rage, he noticed something entirely different. It was a huge understatement to call her eyes pretty. They were the most beautiful eyes, he had ever seen. It wasn't just one particular shade of blue. Jaime could see every shade of blue in them, from the deepest blue to the lightest. For a second, he was hypnotized by them, but it wasn't enough to make him forget his anger.
It felt like half a lifetime, before Brienne started to speak. "It would be rude to say, that it was your fault."
"Oh, I see. Lying is the better option then?" he snarled, but Brienne just blushed. Funny how you could even see it through all the blood.
Oh, the blood.
Jaime remembered the first-aid-kit in his hand, and opened it. With a tissue, he reached out to wipe away the blood, but Brienne jerked away from his touch. "Hold still, Girly." She didn't, so he grabbed her chin with his free hand to stop her head from moving. At first she struggled, but as soon as the tissue touched her skin, she stopped. His eyes were fixed on the blood stains, and he tried to just think about cleaning her face – otherwise he would have crushed her skull. Or lost himself in her eyes. He didn't know, which one would be worse.
"There are some rules." If he hadn't been so close to Brienne, he wouldn't have catch her words. Briefly he looked at her, while he took out a germicide. Who knew what kind of germs were in the water. The scratch started at the corner of her mouth, and went all the way up to her temple. It was small, but deep. There would be a scar for sure. "About how to treat the guests."
"And one of them is to lie to them?"
"To be nice towards them, to not spread any gossip about them, and no romantic involvement."
"I see," Jaime said in a somewhat bitter voice, and sprayed the germicide on her cheek. She took a sharp breath, and he almost felt sorry for it. Almost. "So you have been nice to me, because you were ordered to?" She didn't answer, but he needed none. Not with that look she was giving him. Well, at least he knew why she was nice to him. He could work with that. "And what if I tell you, that I get piss off by your behavior? That's not very nice, is it?"
"What do you want me to do? Tell you in your face, that you're a jerk?"
"I want you to not lie to me. And if that means you have to tell me I'm a jerk, than yes."
"I can't do that. If someone hears me, I-"
"Then do it when no one is around." Brienne shook her head stubbornly. "Do it, or I go to your father, and complain about you." He wouldn't do it, because that was kind of a jerk-move, but it was enough to get her to do what he wanted.
Girly just looked at him, trying to think of a way to get out of the situation. There was no way out of it, and she seemed to realize that as well. Or maybe she just really wanted to tell him, what she was thinking about him. "Fine," she said, and took a deep breath. "You are an arrogant, pompously, egoistic snob, who is used to getting everything he wants immediately, and if you don't, you throw a tantrum and get all snappy. You think you know everything better, which you do not. And yes, it was your fault, because you didn't listen to me about the leash."
"You forgot the jerk-part."
"I think, I already mentioned it earlier." Her blush deepened, but she was still looking into his eyes. Maybe there was some adrenaline left in her blood.
Jaime knew he should be angry about her words. How dared she to judge him, if she obviously knew nothing about him? After all, he was a Lannister, a lion of the Rock, and they had their pride. Strangely, he wasn't as angry as he thought he would be. It was even more strange, that he started to grin. Brienne blinked surprised. "Well, at least I know where I stand now. Don't move." He put a band-aid on her cheek. This time, she obeyed, and dropped her gaze as his fingers brushed over her skin briefly. "It'll probably leave a scar. Serves you right for doing something so stupid."
Without looking at her, he put everything back into the kit, and turned around to place it back into the locker. "But even though you're a jerk," Brienne said. Jaime looked back over his shoulder to her, while he closed the locker. "I really have to thank you. For earlier."
"I suppose you do have to thank me." He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the locker, and looked at her with one raised eyebrow. She just looked back at him. "Well, go ahead, Girly. Thank me."
"I already said it, didn't I?"
"But I'd like to hear it again." He smiled again, this time one of his most charming smiles. Normally it made every female blush, but Jaime had the slight assumption that this time her head turned red because of anger and not embarrassment.
"Thank you," she finally mumbled.
"You're welcome."
Neither of them could tell, how long they remained in the cabin silently. For Brienne it had felt like at least an hour. For Jaime it had felt like a second. It was Brienne, who started to talk first. "You should probably go and change. You could catch a cold."
"So what? Are you going back to being polite again?" She didn't answer, but just got off from the table, and tried to get out of the door. He wouldn't let her. Instead he grabbed her arm, and turned her around to look at him. "Don't to that. Don't lie to me. I don't care about your rules. And do never, ever do something as stupid as getting yourself killed because of something like a board."
"Why would you care, if I get myself killed?"
"Because, contrary to your opinion, I'm not as egoistic as you think." He left the cabin without looking at her again.
"So, what happened?"
"I don't know, what you're talking about."
"You're so angry, I'm surprised there is no steam coming out of your ears."
Jaime looked at Tyrion, who was sitting next to him. They were at the bar – there was suppose to be some kind of competition – after Tyrion had dragged him once again to one of the shows. The weather had calmed down, still cloudy, but the wind had calmed down almost completely. After he had changed out of the wetsuit, he had gone back, went to dinner with his family – again just the Lannisters – and let Tyrion drag him everywhere without complaining. Which was highly unusual for him. His thoughts were still in the cabin. He couldn't understand it himself, but just couldn't stop thinking about their conversation. Their conversation, and every shade of blue he knew.
"I'm not angry," Jaime repeated.
"If it makes you happy, keep telling that to yourself. But what happened? Did you fight with Brienne?"
"We always fight."
"No, you try to provoke her to fight, but isn't allowed to fight back."
"You know the rules?" Jaime looked at Tyrion, who just shrugged.
"It's not that hard to figure out. Besides, there has to be a reason, why she doesn't tell Hyle to fuck off, am I right?" Jaime nodded in agreement. Once again Tyrion proved to be so much smarter than him. "How did you find out?"
"She told me."
"Why?"
Before Jaime could answer, Mr Tarth appeared at their table. He was smiling brightly, just like always. "If those aren't my favorite Lannister boys!" Both Tyrion and Jaime mumbled some greetings, but he wasn't really listening to them anyway. With a strange glint in the eyes, Mr Tarth turned to Jaime. "Would you mind coming with me for a second, son?"
Immediately he thought about everything, he had ever done while he had been here. Surely Brienne would have talked to him. About what? Him calling her a stupid, ugly cow? Getting her almost killed, because he hadn't listen to her? Demanding that she wasn't nice to him? As Mr Tarth turned around, Jaime changed a look with Tyrion, who just shrugged, before he got up, and followed Brienne's dad to a quiet corner of the rather crowded room.
"What do you want to talk about, Mr Tarth?" Jaime asked, and tried to sound as polite as he could.
"Brienne told me, what happened during your surfing lesson today," he explained in a low voice.
Jaime had to suppress the urge to swallow. Suddenly he realized, how strong Mr Tarth's arms looked. He must have a good punch. And this look in his eyes … Was it anger? He couldn't tell. His father would clearly kill him, if Jaime started a fight with his future business-partner.
"Thank you."
He blinked. Did he say thank you or was he hallucinating? "I -"
"I know, how stubborn Brienne can get," Mr Tarth said without noticing, that Jaime had no idea, why he was thanking him. Not really, at least. "And sometimes she just jumps into things, before thinking about it. You know, I didn't want her to be in the water, after what had happened to Galladon, but she wouldn't listen. I'm glad you saved my little girl from the bear pit." Mr Tarth put his big hand on Jaime's shoulder, and squeezed it.
"You're welcome," was everything Jaime could say. The bear pit? What was he talking about? But Mr Tarth clapped on his shoulder again, and smiled.
"I know I made the right choice trusting you! Now, do you take part in the dart-competition as well? You can win a voucher for one of our tours."
"No, but Tyrion will."
"Great! It'll be a lot of fun!" He clapped him on the shoulder one last time, and went off on the stage to announce that the competition will start very shortly. Still a bit baffled, Jaime went back to his brother, who was eying him curiously.
"What did he want to talk about?"
"Uhm … about the surfing lessons." Tyrion didn't believe him, and Jaime knew that he could lie better, but somehow it wasn't working right now. His head was full of questions. Why hadn't Mr Tarth killed him? After all, it had been Jaime's fault that Brienne needed to get the board in the first place. What had happened to Galladon? And what was the bear pit? But most importantly: What did Brienne told him?
"Hey." He looked at Tyrion. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I just need some fresh air." Tyrion nodded, and Jaime left the bar. It was a bit chilly outside, but it helped to clear his head. At least a bit. Slowly he made his way around the hotel site. He didn't want to go back to the apartment, because he knew his father would be there. His feet carried him along the path, sometimes turning left or right, while he was thinking about the conversation. But it didn't matter how much he thought about it, he found no answers.
Suddenly Jaime heard a noise, that was strangely familiar. He stopped for a second, before he turned left, and looked around the corner. There was a basketball court, and someone was playing. That was a bit unusual, because it was far too late to be allowed on there. A tall person was dribbling a ball, and Jaime could tell, that he was a good player. He threw the ball, and scored. It had been a very clean shot. Jaime was about to leave, when the person went to get the ball, and turned around to go back to throw again – and once again, he had mistaken Brienne for a guy. She hadn't had seen him yet, but dribbled the ball again, before she threw the ball again. This time, with her left hand. It hit the board, but it was pretty close to the basket.
"So, you're a basketball player now, Girly?" Jaime asked, as he stepped around the corner. Brienne looked around, and strangely resembled a deer caught in headlights, before she remembered, that she usually wasn't looking at people's faces, but their feet. Slowly he entered the court. "I didn't know you're left-handed."
"I'm not," she finally said. "I just wanted to try, because -"
"Because what?" He took the ball from her hands, invading her personal space, which she clearly didn't liked. He dribbled the ball from one hand to the other, again feeling like something was blocking his once so smooth movements of his right hand. "Didn't I told you to talk normally to me when we're alone? We're alone now."
"I tried, because I told you, you should try to use your left hand," Brienne stuttered. Surprised, Jaime looked at her, but her beautiful eyes were fixed on the ball in his hands. "I wanted to know, if it's too difficult to learn."
"And? Is it?"
At first he thought, she wouldn't answer him again, because she had been quite for a few seconds, but then he realized, that she was thinking about the answer. She was frowning, while still staring at the ball. Finally she looked at him. Just for a second though, but it was a start. "It's unfamiliar, and might be difficult at first, but I don't think it's impossible, if you try."
"Hmpf." Jaime looked at the ball. He had the sudden urge to try to throw with his left hand again, just to see, if something changed. He didn't though. Somehow he didn't want Brienne to see his failed attempts.
"What happened to your hand?"
"Oh no, Girly. You owe me some answer first." The frown appeared again, and she opened her mouth to ask, but he was faster. "What's the bear pit?"
"What?"
"Your father talked to me. He told me some interesting things." Jaime started to grin, as he saw a deep red color stain her pale, freckled skin.
"He what?"
"I was a bit surprised, that he didn't ripped my head from my shoulders for almost getting his daughter killed. So, what exactly did you tell him?"
Once again, Brienne took her time to think about the answer. That was something that Jaime never did. "I told him, that one of the boards was floating away, and I tried to get it, but I got caught in a current. You helped me."
"You lied to him?"
"It wasn't lying," she said quickly, and blushed. Even Jaime could tell she didn't like to lie to anybody. "I just didn't mention something."
"So he thinks, I'm the knight in the shining armor who saved the damsel in distress?"
"Do you want me to tell him, that it was your fault?"
Suddenly he remembered Mr Tarth's arms. He shook his head. "No." Brienne made a huffing sound, and Jaime threw the ball to her rather forcefully. She caught it ,and started to dribble it again. "What's the bear pit?"
"It's the name for the rocks. Until two decades ago, it wasn't unusual for the ships to crash against rocks in this area. After all, this is Shipwreck Bay. One of the ships had some animals on board. The cage of a bear got caught between the rocks. He had been there for quite some time, before he eventually drowned. Since then it was called the bear pit." She hesitated, before she spoke the next words. "The rock, I crashed against, is called Biter. Most of the ships crashed against him."
"What happened to Galladon?" Jaime asked. Brienne blinked again, like she couldn't believe, he just said that. Or maybe it was the fact, that he wasn't insulting her. Hard to tell. "Your dad was mentioning him."
"Oh, well …" She cleared the throat, and looked at her feet again. "When we were younger, Galladon tried surfing as well. He was quite good, but … When he was ten, he had been caught in a current, and was crashed against the rock. It was bad, he almost didn't -" She couldn't finish the sentence, and swallowed instead. There was a strange urge inside of him to comfort her, but he didn't. He had never comfort anybody, and didn't know what to do. "There is a big scare under his hair, and since then he never went into the water again. Dad didn't wanted me to continue surfing after that, but …" She shrugged, like it would explain everything.
And somehow it did. Jaime remembered her watery eyes, and her shocked look, as she got out of the water. Back then, he had thought, it was some kind of shock – but maybe she was just reminded of what happened to her brother. It explained Mr Tarth's gratitude as well. For once in his life, Jaime didn't want to make a snarling remark about something.
"He said something about making the right choice in trusting me," he said, after a moment of silence. Brienne took a deep breath, before she looked at him. "Your father. What did he meant?"
"Oh … Well …" And there was her blush again. She took her time dribbling the ball again. "He isn't letting everyone taking my private lessons. He decides, if they get them or not."
"Why?"
"What happened to your hand?" she asked instead, still blushing, and obviously uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "How did it break?" For a minute, Jaime thought about denying her the answer, and pushing her until she tells him more, but he dropped it. For now.
"It was an accident," he said, emphasizing the word in a bitter voice. "At my last game, a player accidentally tackled me, and accidentally crushed my hand. It shattered, and I should be happy, that I got rid of the cast quickly. And technically, I should be playing for another two months." He hesitated, and looked at the ball. Brienne noticed it, and bounced it to him. He caught it. "Since then it's like there is something between my bones …"
"Maybe you just need to learn to get used to it," Brienne offered.
"Sure, because it's so easy," Jaime said sarcastically, and rolled his eyes. "I tried, it didn't work."
"You tried it how many times? Two? Three? You need to put some effort into it. Just because you had been a natural, doesn't mean you don't have to work to improve."
"You know what, Girly? I kinda liked you better, when you weren't talking so much."
She blushed again. The red color made her freckles pop, and was in a strange contrast to her eyes. Well, if anyone could pull off a spotted blush, it was this ugly girl. What ever confidence let her say those words, it was gone now. But before she could escape the court, Jaime stopped her by throwing the ball to her again. Brienne almost didn't caught it, but after the ball was safely in her hands, she looked at him with a puzzling look.
"You sound like, you know a few things about practicing."
"I have my share."
"Care to share some tips?" If the words hadn't had left his mouth, he almost wouldn't believe that he actually asked it. Brienne looked just as disbelieving as he felt. It had been a stupid idea.
"Are you asking me for help?"
"No, I'm giving you an opportunity to keep Hunt from you. Or do you want him to follow you everywhere?" Nice one, Lannister.
Brienne grimaced, and shook her head. "Fine. But only when the staff doesn't need my help."
"I thought, you were working here?"
"No, I'm just helping out."
"So you don't get paid?" She shook her head. "I would never do that."
"I know. Because you're an arrogant, pompously, egoistic snob, remember?" And for the first time, Jaime Lannister saw Brienne Tarth smile genuine. He could see some crocked teeth, but it made her eyes sparkle, and turn them even more beautiful. It made him smile, too.
A/N: The second chapter! Hurray! All characters belong to GRRM. I'm not exactly sure how long the next chapter will be, and I'm not sure, when I'll have time to post it as well. I move to the other side of the country tomorrow and start to study, so I will not have a lot of time. The story is also on ao3 and on my profile you can find the link to my tumblr, where I post some updates and some stuff. Also if you have some prompts or some ideas, just sent me a message or leave a comment! Cheers!