The Adventures of Super Jock And Awkward Girl

A/N ~ You'll either be very pleased or very terrified to know that as I approach the end of this fanfiction – writing, not in posting it, gods no – I have unfettered ideas for a sequel set around Kings Landing College. It may amount to nothing yet, but if I have some spare time on my hands, who knows what might come of it.

Disclaimer ~ *Adjusts fake glasses* *Attempts American accent* Yeah, hai, I'm George R R Martin, author of the epic fantasy novels A Song of Ice and - *chokes* No, I can't do it, I'm not really Big G. I know, I know, I was very convincing. But no.

Coming Up… Jaime makes a speech, Brienne is incapable of acting rashly, Lyanna is confused, but what else is new, Cersei's drunk, but what else is new, and Brandon is worse than his sister but also what else is new. Find out in The Adventures of Super Jock and Awkward Girl!

17.Because I'm a (Stunningly Attractive) Idiot

The day dawned grey and completely clouded and yet bright, and Jaime Lannister awoke feeling miserable, guilty, confused and a tad nauseous, which was entirely the fault of Lyanna Stupid Idiot Stark and her marshmallows.

For once, he had managed to lay in, as he found his tent deserted. He wondered why Mr R Tarly hadn't shouted them all up as if they were his own private militia, and then he realized he'd be going home today – he could get up whenever, and eat, as long as it was before the coach arrived at midday. Finally. Finally. Home. Where he'd be able to clear his head, to ground, to get back to reality. He'd tell them all he had a much worse time than he had, he'd fight the doctors tooth and nail for the right to remove his cast, and he'd start training again. He had to put all distractions aside – he had to be Jaime Lannister, Quarterback extraordinaire again. He had to get into Kings Landing.

(And if Brienne Tarth was going to get in the way of that…)

He wished it could all be simpler. Because maybe… Maybe he did tolerate Brienne now. Respect her, even. He couldn't like her. In any way. He just had to accept her getting him through science. That was all. He tried to call up the images from the KL College brochure, but his mind failed him. He tried to Google it, but his mobile data connection failed him.

So he stood up, stretched and managed to get dressed. Food would never fail him.

Or so he thought. By the time he arrived in the Highgarden cafeteria, most all the decent food had been savaged, possibly all by Lyanna Stark, and he was left with mess and dregs. Only a few people were still in there. He thought he couldn't go wrong with settling on a piece of toast, but apparently he could – burnt, dry toast was worse than no toast at all. And he didn't even know why he was miserable. He should be in soaring spirits – this was good, he was getting himself back, he'd lost himself after the hand incident and now he was getting himself back, he was determined, he was great.

Sort of.

One redeemable feature of the morning, of course, was that he was by far not the only one moping. He sat by his 'friends' to find Lya shovelling beans into her mouth almost aggressively, and the first thing she did was glare at him and remark that his unbrushed hair looked retarded, through a mouthful of half-chewed egg. "What's up with oceanhead? Jeez." Jaime muttered, picking apart the crust of his toast.

"Hey." Lyanna muttered a sharp objection to that reference. She insisted her hair was the colour of winter roses. Jaime was indifferent. He had recently begun to really appreciate the colour blue – just not quite the blue of winter roses, more like… sapphires or whatever. He rolled his eyes.

"Brandon got into a fight last night, when we all thought he'd left to go to bed." Rhaegar explained, carefully pulling apart a bagel.

"Yeah," Elia put in, who had appeared magically and silently beside Jaime. Honestly. He had no idea when the hell she got there. "He went walking, and he was kicking a tree, and Petyr Baelish turned up and said that he was so aggressive it's no wonder Catelyn left him, so he punched him in the face. Baelish's got, like, a black eye now. He swears Brandon was going to push him in the lake, but he'd probably just lying, like he was about sleeping with Cat."

"Yeah, and that fucking Tarly dick's got Brandon up for suspension, which is a ton of bullshit and everyone knows it, cause that Littlefinger douche was asking for it. Dad's going to be pissed. And so's Catelyn, for that matter, which just proves my idiot big brother should just stay the fuck out of things." Lyanna's voice was rising and Jaime thought it best to leave before she broke storm.

He went to his tent to retrieve the final packet of crisps from his bag, and found his bag out on the grass, the tents packed up. Then the rain started, lightly (at first) and Jaime just wanted to be anywhere else. Fuck. So he sat on his bag, shoved in his headphones and ate his crisps and pondered possibilities.

His mind wasn't really on his side though. Damn mind.

Eventually, Brienne Tarth came on the scene, with Hyle Hunt, stupid ugly prick, and Pod Payne, inept imbecile that he was, and Jaime took the opportunity to go anywhere else, anywhere else. He was stomping through the mud and trees, wondering why the Seven loathed him so much more than anyone else. No, no. He was in a great position! He was overjoyed. He was going to do everything in his power to get into Kings Landing, period. It. Brienne could be of some help where Science was concerned. Aside from that, she was just some girl. (At least, he was fairly sure she was a girl.) Just that annoyingly awkward lumbering idiot. Science was it.

He passed a block of toilets and went in to find it deserted, footprinted floor empty. In a complete and utter Cersei-move, he dug out a comb and started to work through the mess of his hair. Then he sat on the sink block, probing his broken hand. It still ached, but it was a dull ache now, much duller than it used to be. He wondered if it would be completely suicidal to try and prise off the cast, and then decided against it. Then, just to kill time, he phoned Robert Baratheon.

"Hello. Did you have a good hangover?" Jaime prompted.

Over the line, Robert groaned. "Feel like shit, Lannister. Feel like total shit." Jaime was about to reply when he was cut off. "Your sister is total shit. You know that? Total shit."

"I spend the first twelve years of my life sharing a room with Cersei, and you're complaining?"

"I found a bottle of water in her locker and I drank from it and it was definitely not water so I said to her, you know, bitch, you're becoming as bad as the stoner gang, maybe you should go hang out in the stoner corner, and then she publically humiliated me and ruined my life."

"Mmm. She's a life ruiner."

"How's Lyanna?"

"Fucking Rhaegar left right and centre."

Robert groaned again and Jaime doubted it was because of his evident hangover. "Ugh. She's so beautiful, Jaime, I just want to marry her. And then Cersei's more popular and she's more beautiful too but she's a fucking drunken bitch and I hate her. What's life, Jaime, what's…" A colossal yawn followed, and then he was muttering about smashing Rhaegar to bits with a hammer.

"Great. To move to another, less depressing Stark, Brandon may or may not be getting suspended."

"What for?" Oh, now he was all interest.

"Punching Petyr Baelish on Terror Tarly's watch. Baelish was digging at him and Cat."

"Oh," Robert sounded happier thanks to a touch of violence and gossip, anyway. That was that summarized. "Hey, Jaime, you want to know something ironic? You can't tell anyone though, or else everyone will kill me."

"Scout's honour." Jaime lied, with a hint of smugness. This was it, this was him, that he was easing back into. This was the him that was going to get into Kings Landing College.

"So, Lysa likes Petyr, but Petyr's creepy for Cat, but Cat was with Brandon. Now she's broken up with one brother, the second one down's decided he might want to have a go. Ned told me yesterday. He's mad for Cat now. I dunno what happened, but apparently while she was spending all that time with Brandon at the Stark house, he just sort of started to get this gradual crush. It's funny – see, cause Lysa –"

"I know why it's funny, Baratheon." That was hardly new news. What had he and Tyrion called it? The world's first love pentagon? And when you added that Barbrey Dustin into the mix, who Jaime was almost certain had a thing for Brandon, did that make a hexagon? Oh, what the fuck were they, girls? Gossiping like them anyway. What utter shit.

"But look, Ned's my best mate, no offense, if you tell anyone I will personally –"

But then the time on Jaime's phone was suddenly slapping him, and he realized it was midday. Coaches. Fuck. "Sorry." Jaime muttered, hanging up hastily and burying the iPhone in his pocket, flinging himself to his feet and venturing outside. The rain had gotten heavier. It was still bright, still easy enough to see clearly through, there was just… more of it. In closer proximities.

As he hastened through the weather, the mud clutched at his boots, and he was swearing quite colourfully. They still had a while before the coaches actually departed, but he wanted a decent seat, and he wanted, you know, not to be so late to piss of Tarly enough to piss of his dad to piss off chances at Kings Landing. The site of their tents deserted when he came out into it, Jaime sighed and swore and carried on, lugging his bag up the gravel path to the Highgarden Manor and Grounds car park. Life. And he could only really properly utilize one hand.

He audibly sighed, relieved, when he discovered he was not the only one arriving late. Ish. Brandon Stark was sullenly lumbering along, beside his jumping-to-keep-up blue-haired little sister, who was swearing and making crazy, vast hand gestures as she went. He was ignoring her. Jaime didn't blame him. After Brandon boarded, exchanging several furious glances at Tarly, Lyanna gave a loud exclaim of shit and ran back to search for her PSP, which she had evidently lost.

And then Hyle Hunt and Brienne Tarth appeared, dragging a sopping wet and tremulous Podrick Payne between them. Jaime snorted. "What?" He felt an idiotic grin twist at his features as he went to them. "What is going on here, then?"

"Podrick fell in the lake." Brienne told him flatly. She looked tired. It was like Pod was Hyle and Brienne's ludicrously useless little child that they had to constantly watch out for. (That thought made him want to hit Hyle.) (For some absurd reason.) (Absurd.) (No, Hyle Hunt was a dickhead.) (He didn't know why Brienne was friends with him.) (He knew Brienne Tarth should probably try to keep all the meagre friends she could get.) (But still.) (Hyle was a dick.) (He didn't know why.) (Ugh.)

Jaime laughed, and he didn't like the sound of his laugh. Partly because it sounded old, and partly because it alerted Randyll Tarly that a student under his watch had maybe got pneumonia from dirty lake water. He remembered when he'd trudged out of the lake. Oh yes, I'm a regular Mr Darcy. (That was the day he'd kissed Brienne.) (Except no.) (That memory didn't exist to him anymore.) (She was just annoying, Science, football girl now.)

"What in the Seven's name is going on?" He roared. "Answer me! Tarth, answer me! You thought it would be fun to shove him in? Did you? No, of course you didn't, you wouldn't have had the guts! Hunt? You then? Or no, Lannister, wasn't it? Classic Lannister, always –"

"I didn't do it this time, Tarly, cross my heart." He smiled. "I… I'm just an innocent bystander."

Tarly grumbled something about no bystanders being innocent, and then turned back to the loser trio. "Explain!"

"Podrick… Podrick fell in the lake, Sir." Brienne managed, shifting uncomfortably, those blue eyes turned down past her freckles to stare at her trainers.

"Oh, did he now? Podrick! Why was a health risk like yourself hanging around water anyway? Payne, have a hot shower, get changed, congratulations, you're now holding up your time, my time, and the coach company's time, so go on, hurry up! Hunt, go with him, see that he doesn't choke on his own spit! Go!" Jaime watched as Hyle Hunt trudged off looking like rage incarnate, hauling his waterlogged buddy through the rain.

"Lannister, Tarth, don't think I'm not watching you. Final warnings." And with that, Tarly trudged over to the head coach, to confer with the driver about how Podrick Payne's mishap was going to affect every event for the rest of their lives. Half of Jaime wanted to laugh, and the other half wanted to see if Pod was okay. He went with neither.

"He did just fall in…" Brienne confirmed awkwardly, straw-coloured hair beaded with raindrops. "Mr Tarly just hates me."

Mr Tarly just hates everyone, you idiot. "Oh, I don't doubt that he's that stupid. Don't think anyone does really." He paused. "Your boyfriend seemed livid at him. Safe to say their friendship is effectively ruined."

Brienne blushed furiously, neck and cheeks turning that familiar, ridiculous crimson. "Hyle Hunt is not my boyfriend!"

"Then what's with the blush? It's actually quite cold, raining, and you look like a tomato. Really makes your freckles pop."

"Jaime!" Brienne snapped, and then went quiet, staring back down at her trainers. A long pause ensued. "Why… I don't understand, you're so normal one minute and you go back to being yourself the next."

That struck some sort of chord. Being yourself. No. No. The fuck was that supposed to mean? He glanced around the trees and the manor and the concrete car park through the steadily falling rain. Deserted. "You know what, Brienne, you're right, this is me, this is myself. This is who I am, I can't change that, I can't change that for you or for anybody else because I have expectations and I have things I need to uphold, I have things I need to do. I'd say I'm sorry but I can't be, I can't be!" His voice was raising, to reach her through the rain that was getting so much heavier now. Before he knew what he was doing, Jaime was shouting through it. "Because it's me! Because I'm nothing but a stunningly attractive idiot! I can't be anything else right now! I can't do anything else right now! So I am going to get on this coach and I am going to go home and it's all going to go back to normal because I can't change for you, Brienne! I can't change for you."

He turned around, throwing his head down, hair sodden and dripping onto the shoulders of his damp hoodie. Jaime trudged away, toward the coach. He didn't look back.

When he boarded the coach, went to sit with Rhaegar, and Lyanna turned up seconds later, PSP shoved down her hoodie to protect it, hair soaked, grinning like an imbecile. She waved it. "Found it!" And then when he gaze fell on Jaime, as she swung herself into a seat, she gave him the most confused look, and he knew she'd heard.

He didn't care.

(Because I can't change for you.)

(If Tyrion had been there, he might have said something along the lines of you already have.)