Brienne wobbles through her apartment. Gladly, her foot wasn't broken or anything, but it still feels like needles even with the thick bandage around her ankle.
Jaime didn't leave her mind since.
At some point it's still too surreal, but she pinched herself hard enough to earn her a bruise to be sure that this is real. She even googled him to be on the safe side that Jaime wasn't just the product of her imagination.
By the way, he didn't lie about being rich beyond reason. She heard of the Lannisters before, and that they run a huge firm, but once she saw the annual sales, she had to choke on her coffee. So now she starts to type a text message:
Hey, this is Brienne. I don't know if u still remember me, but u said I was supposed to call back. So, hi?
Send.
Brienne exhales, but only seconds later, she has a text message.
Nah-ah. You misunderstood. You are supposed to call me.
Brienne makes a face, starting to type again.
That's what I just did.
The reply comes even faster this time.
No, you texted me. Pick up the phone and call me. I told you, I'm old-fashioned.
Brienne sucks her lower lip into her mouth. She hates calling people. The invention of text messages was something that made her cry out in relief. Because she doesn't know what the person on the other line is doing or what face he has, and that makes her nervous beyond reason.
I'm waiting.
Brienne stomps her good foot before she dials the number, and waits.
"Blue Eyes! At last you call me back!"
"I, uhm, hi," she mutters helplessly, feeling like a teenager again, more than tempted to just hang up on him again.
"I already feared you'd forgotten about me," he mewls theatrically.
"I, uhm, I just… I wanted to ask if you…," Brienne goes on with her gibberish.
"Yes?" he asks, waiting.
"Do you have time… some time? You said you wanted to go on a date, I mean, that is unless I am just making a fool out of myself for getting it all wrong or so, but…," Brienne talks fast, but that is when he interrupts her, "Stop, stop, stop. Geez, woman, I made myself clear last time. I'd be glad to go on a date with you. Just tell me when and where. Though I hope it's something interesting. Restaurants are boring."
"I thought about the archery range, maybe? I mean, unless you don't want, then…," she asks uncertainly.
"One can always rely on you. That sounds perfect. When?" he asks.
"I don't know, whenever you have time. I reckon you are busier than I," Brienne shrugs.
"I am never busy. That is the core problem of being a rich boy," Jaime argues. "That is why we do stupid things all the time."
"Today?" she asks hesitantly, screwing her eyes shut.
"Ah, that sounds even better. I will pick up at your apartment. An hour from now?" Jaime smiles.
"Alright?" she replies uncertainly.
"And Blue Eyes?" he adds.
"Yes?" she asks.
"If you want to talk to me, talk to me. I don't like to text. I hate writing in general," Jaime grins. "Just so that you know."
"Oh, okay," she nods.
"Then I will see you in… fifty-nine minutes from now," Jaime grins. "I'm looking forward to it. But no high heels."
Brienne swallows thickly.
This seriously just happened.
Well, that is if he turns up after all.
Brienne looks down at herself. Sleeping shirt and hotpants don't seem to be much of a good idea to wear to a date. She debates with herself for a while, but eventually goes with a white tanktop that fits tighter on her body for underneath, and then a loose navy tanktop above it, coupled with jeans and boots.
Passable enough.
At least she is in clothes that don't leave her vulnerable like the bloody satin dress did. And that means she has a bit more control again.
Brienne almost jumps out of her skin when she hears a knock on the door. She checks her wristwatch. Five minutes before it would be time. Maybe the mailman after all. Brienne opens the door, to find the smugly smiling Adonis leaning in her doorframe as though he waited for some photographer to take his picture, dressed in a simple ruby V-neck cotton shirt and washed jeans.
"I hope I didn't interrupt with anything by coming in a bit early," he winks at her. "I just couldn't stop myself. So? Ready to shoot some arrows?"
He gestures with his hands, acting as though he was firing arrows in all directions.
"And the much more important question: Do I need to carry you down the stairs?" he goes on teasing her. Brienne swats his hand away, ducking under his arm to walk outside. Jaime chuckles and closes the door, tagging behind her.
"But seriously, is the foot alright?" he asks as they make their way down the stairs.
"I told you, I have that more often than I would like to admit. A bit wobbly, but nothing torn or broken," she tells him.
"Oh, thank the Gods," he throws his hands up.
Brienne tilts her head. It's really nice to have someone ask about her wellbeing other than family and friends. Though Brienne guesses that Jaime will reconsider now that he sees her in bright daylight, without make-up and stupid red stilettos.
"So? Where do we go to? I have a fancy car this time, instead of the stinky taxi," he winks at her as they make their way outside.
"It's not far, so we might just as well walk," she argues.
"What? Hey, you can't just destroy the game for me. Usually, I show off with my fancy car to impress people," he pouts.
"Well, I'm not at all into cars. I either walk or take public transportation," she shrugs. "I mean, I have my driver's licence, but that's it."
"And I thought I was old-fashioned," he grimaces.
"You are seemingly not the only one," she shrugs.
"So we will seriously walk all the way?" he asks.
"You can still press the wrong button and abort the mission, you know?" she offers, trying to sound as sarcastic as she can.
"Do you want me to abort the mission?" he makes a face.
"I didn't say that. I just meant to say that… well, I wouldn't hold it against you if you did," she tells him.
Because he is so unreal while she is so real that it hurts her eyes.
"I am stubborn. If I set my mind on something, then I strive for it until I have it," he tells her, but then inches right behind her so that he is right next to her ear. "And I set my mind on the maiden I rescued."
Brienne blinks at him, "Well, your decision, then."
Jaime lets out a good-natured chuckle, tagging next to her as she shows the way.
They make their way to the archery range, and Brienne starts to feel a bit more confident once she finds herself in a place familiar to her. She gathers her things from her locker before she shows her… date… to the actual range.
"So? Will we make this a bit more interesting?" Jaime asks as she prepares her arrows.
"Interesting how?" she frowns.
"A game," he shrugs.
"About who has a bull's eye more often?" she frowns.
"Nah, that's boring. We'll play truth or dare, or well, the idea is that in case you miss, I get to ask you a personal question and you have to answer. And you get to ask me a question if I miss, too, of course," Jaime grins. "You know, to get to know each other."
"… Fine," she shrugs, puckering her lips.
"Lady's first," he grins.
"Oh, very subtle," she snorts, getting in position. Brienne takes her stance, pulling back the string. She aims, exhales, and then shoots.
It's odd, really, when she shoots arrows or fights, she feels a lot more confident than she does in real life. She has control, she can take her time. Well, in a swords fight, you don't have the time, but that is when Brienne really lets go and allows her instincts to take over. But archery grants her control she oftentimes lacks in life.
"I guess I won't get a single question about you," Jaime makes a face, glancing at the arrow that hit the target dead-on. "Fine, my try."
Jaime takes his stance, and Brienne takes her time studying him. It's obvious that he doesn't do this for the first time, and once he pulls back the string, the smug smile completely disappears from his face as he focuses on the target.
"I shall be damned. I have to practice more," he grunts, glancing at the arrow once he fired it.
"Well, you were on target, almost," she shrugs.
"So? What do you want to know?" he grins. Brienne tilts her head back. Right, he wants to play this game…
"What's your weirdest antic?" she asks.
"Other than rescuing maidens and collecting swords? Hm… I guess it is that I rather crash at other people's places than my own, even though I own a very fancy apartment," he replies thoughtfully. "I actually have a guest room in Tyrion's apartment just for the matter, and because he was fed up with finding me sprawled on the couch all the time. The leather was expensive or so."
Brienne tilts her head, but then takes up the next arrow to shoot again. Jaime stands behind her with a dark grin this time.
"Will you seriously do the whole Kevin Costner slash Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio routine from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves? That's cheap," she huffs.
And only to prove him wrong does she shoot the red bull's eye absolutely dead-on despite his attempts of interrupting her.
"Your try," she says, feeling a bit more confident.
Jaime gets in position, the posture absolutely perfect, but he misses again, if only by a few inches, "This is wicked. Okay, fine, give it to me."
"How many girlfriends did you have?" she asks.
"Oh, so now we are making it personal," he chuckles. "Hm, as in real relationships… three?"
Brienne tries her best not to stare. She expected at least double-digit number, if not triple.
"I had a… long first relationship, and ever since, it's been rough to build up something real again. In the end, we just never had anything in common, and that's why it ended. I mean, I have dated more than three women, a lot more than three women, of course, for that I'm too handsome, but relationship-wise, I guess I'm still looking for the one," he shrugs. "Your turn."
Brienne takes her stance, but as she is about to shoot, Jaime gives her slight nudge, forcing her to miss, "Hey! That's unfair!"
"This game is no fun if I'm the only one playing it," he shrugs.
"Fine. Shoot," she exhales.
"What is the most forbidden thing you have ever done?" he grins.
"Forbidden? I tried to get into the High School football team by acting off as one of the guys, because it was a boys' club only, if that counts?" she grimaces.
"Seriously?" he looks at her. Brienne just shrugs, "I wrestled them all to the ground with ease. Well, but of course it was over once I had to take off my helmet. Still served them right. At some point I didn't really care. I was a freak anyways."
"Freak? You?" he makes a face.
Does he seriously look disbelievingly?
"I was about this tall at the age of twelve," she says, gesticulating with her flat hand at the height of her chest. "You can't imagine how confused people were to find out that I wasn't a boy. The first time I went to school, the hall monitor wanted to give me a detention because I wanted to use the girls' bathroom and he thought I was a boy trying to peep on the girls… until someone explained it to him. I was into swords and fighting more than into styling and dancing. I could beat up every boy in school if I wanted. I didn't get my jaws apart to talk. And I am clumsy. Yes, I was a freak."
She still is, for all it's worth, but by now she is used to her own freakishness and accepted the fact that she is.
"You were unique. You are," he argues. Brienne puckers her lips, uncertain what to make of that statement, "Your turn."
At some point the two just end up destroying the game for each other so that they have to answer questions each time they try to shoot an arrow. And Brienne honestly starts to forget about the control she thought she needed and simply joins him in his effortlessness, in his small game.
Because she wants to know more about him.
And because it feels nice to have someone wanting to find out about her as well.
"What is your favourite colour?"
"Blue."
"What did you want to be when you were still little?"
"A knight."
"Curious, so did I."
"How many men did you kiss yet?"
"You included? Five."
"The thing you regret most?"
"My first relationship. It was wrong for many reasons."
"Do you have any siblings?"
"I used to, but they all died when I was still young."
"Oh, I… I am so sorry, I didn't know."
"It's alright."
"Do you like your job in your father's firm?"
"Not at all, but it grants me a carefree lifestyle. I'd rather be something more heroic, more idealistic, I don't know. As I said, I'm old-fashioned, but my father needs me in the firm, what can I say? Family comes first. How is it about your father?"
"He let me work as whatever I wanted. He's just very disappointed that I didn't marry yet. I am his only child, that's why."
"What did you mean with 'I should have known' back in the taxi, about the arses who played that nasty trick at your expenses?"
"I'm me, that's why I should have known it to be a trick. I'm, well, a freak. That's why I should have guessed that this blind date was a ruse," she says, but that is when he is suddenly in front of her, "Does that mean you think I'm playing tricks on you, too?"
"Does it?" she asks.
"I asked you if you think it is," he says, his voice suddenly very strong, almost intimidating. He reminds her of a lion.
"I don't want it to be," she admits, averting her gaze, but Jaime tilts her chin up and kisses her on the lips just like he did the last time, though he holds on longer, presses against her to the point that she can feel the warmth of his skin radiating against her own. And she finds herself submitting to the tenderness of his touch.
She loses control, but for some reason that seems fine for now.
"Do you believe me?" he asks once he pulls away.
"Yes?" she blinks at him.
"Good," he grins, kissing her again. "Belief is the first step to trust."
Brienne simply lets it happen, lets him pull his arms around her, even though they are in a shabby archery range, even though she is a freak, and he is apparently a good-looking odd bird, or no, lion. Because he is seemingly into freaks because he is one as well, beneath the handsome surface.
Because Brienne feels secure in these arms in a way that she never did before, to the point that she doesn't feel her armour pressing against them as he kisses her.