Work Text:
"What are you doing, my dearest secretary?"
Brienne spins around to face him, her cheeks already flushing even though Jaime's nickname for her isn't even that provocative or embarrassing. Oh, no he has tried out other nicknames for her, receiving a blush or a clipped response from Brienne every time, but nothing really sticks so far.
Brienne, subtly, tries to hide the open office printer behind her back, but it's useless. The churning sounds of another paper getting pressed out rolls through the room. Office printers were absurdly loud and this old communal one must've been the loudest one in the building.
"Why are you printing on the communal printer when we have a perfectly functioning private one in my office?" He asks her, tilting his head a little bit to look behind the woman.
Brienne moves to block his view again, not answering. Her cheeks turn redder, if that is even possible.
Jaime moves more to the left - his secretary follows to keep blocking him - before he moves sharply to the right, managing to snatch the first few papers from the freshly printed stock. In his haste, he moves to rough and half of the pile glides out over the floor.
Brienne makes no movement to recollect the fallen sheets, or the ones Jaime is now proudly holding. She sighs and closes her eyes in defeat, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Jaime reads over the text he holds in his hands: 'Scientists have classified these regions of the world into different biomes. Based on flora, fauna and weather-'
"Wait.. is this homework?" He asks perplexed. Brienne has moved to collect the rest of the papers, probably more printed works from her kids. Which of her five rascals wrote this, then?
"Geography assignments, a book report and a written summary or two." She answers.
Jaime doesn't remember ever asking his dad to print him his book reports when he was young. Things were different back then, of course. The world was less digital, but still. He remembers his reading tutors and Cersei's piano teacher who visited their home once a week. If Jaime ever needed help he could ask Tyrion, who was almost a decade younger but in some ways much smarter than Jaime ever was.
But that was it. Offering his homework for his dad to judge and frown upon had always been a big No for Jaime.
Not wanting to open that kind of conversation with his secretary of all people, Jaime tries to focus on the situation at hand. "Don't you have a printer at home or something?"
"Not everyone owns a personal printer, Mister Lannister." She replies tersely.
Jaime frowns at her use of his last name. They’ve been working together for almost half a year now and Jaime hoped his insistence on using his first name would’ve stuck by now. Most of the time, she does call him Jaime, but he knows she’s trying to create some distance, clutching the files to her chest.
"Have you printed a lot of things for school this way?" Jaime continues.
"Of course not.” she sounds offended. “We always go to the printing store in the city, but we- there was an accident.." Brienne mumbles something about a 'bottle flip challenge' and 'a lot of water' and Jaime knows just enough about youth trends to get the gist of the situation.
Jaime scans the homework assignment in his hand once more before he hands it back to her. It's good writing. "Next time, use the printer in my office. You don't need to walk to a different floor just to print some school assignments."
"But- I.." her voice trails off.
"Relax wench, it's not really forbidden to use the printers for personal use. And if anyone does give you any trouble, I'll deal with them."
The smile she gives him then is fleeting and small, but it somehow feels warm enough to stay with him for hours.
Jaime still feels light and somehow happy when Tyrion calls him, hours later. His brother religiously uses their mobile phones for any and all calls, so the fact that Brienne connects Tyrion to him through the phone on his desk should've been a hint somehow. Of what, Jaime is not sure.
"Tyrion, how are you doing? At the airport yet?" Tyrion should be returning from an international business trip this weekend, but his brother liked 'sightseeing' the local women and usually added a few days to his travels.
“Meetings went o-kay and even the sun is shining up here in The Vale, so I’m expecting to be off in an hour or so if my plane schedule is correct.” Ah, so no sightseeing, Jaime grinned. “Any troubles at the office? Did the Tyrells call like they promised?”
“Oh, they called..” Jaime sighs. The Tyrells were good business partners, but very demanding. Jaime usually let Tyrion deal with them, but Brienne had been an amazing substitute. Jaime had anxiously hovered over his secretary’s shoulder as she chatted with Margery Tyrell, but the call had lasted less than fifteen minutes, so Jaime called that a win.
“That’s good,” Tyrion continued after Jaime was done recounting said phone call “I need you to do something for me, Jaime.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“The Tolands and the Ullers from the south have agreed to join us at the stock meeting of next Tuesday and will be visiting for the first time. I need you to update the introduction speech we use for new partners.”
“Why can’t we use the old speech? Show them around the office and offer them some wine like we normally do?” It’s what they’ve been doing since they started the company, after all. Jaime knows that speech by heart.
“Because that speech sucks.” Tyrion answers. “It’s old and we’ve achieved a lot more with the company since I wrote that on a napkin in a bar years ago.”
“But.. then why don’t you do it? If it is your speech..” Jaime trails off. He peeks at the clock in the corner of his office; he had not planned to stay after working hours and since it is a Friday, that means it will become weekend work. Dammit.
“I am otherwise engaged this weekend..” Tyrion lets the silence speak for itself. So his brother had decided to bring his sightseeing with him, Jaime knew. Dammit Tyrion.
“Fine, I’ll do it.” Jaime reluctantly agrees. “But I’ll be unhappy about it all the time while writing it, just so you know.”
“That’s the spirit!” Tyrion laughs before ending the call. Within a minute, an email appears in his inbox. The attachment contains the text his brother once wrote to dazzle investors, the body of the email itself only contains a smiley face. Jaime drops his head on his desk.
Dammit Tyrion, indeed.
Still with is head resting on his desk is how Brienne finds him some time later. The door to his office soundlessly opens, followed by a “Is.. everything alright, Jaime?”
At least they’re on first name basis again, Jaime thinks. Brienne never stays annoyed with him for long. Her patience must be endless, between her five teenage kids and the high maintenance job that is being Jaime Lannister’s secretary.
“My brother wants me to update the introduction speech before the meeting of next Tuesday.” He replies. Jaime knows the original speech and could recite it in his sleep, but he wouldn’t know what to add to it. What is important for investors and new partners to know? What words should he use to make it understandable and interesting?
Marketing had always been Tyrion’s department. Jaime could recite some words and mingle with the high-end investors, but this feels like homework all over. His thoughts from this morning resurface and Jaime grimaces.
Brienne simply hums. For her, this probably isn’t much different from the school projects her kids write all the time. She probably learned how to write professional speeches from the top of her head when she got schooled for her job.
“Couldn't you help me with- no don't answer that, it is four fifty and you should be clearing out." He says.
Brienne gives him an apoplectic smile, but doesn't correct him or offer him any assistance. She walks towards him and places another stack of papers on the corner of his desk. "Don't bring this with you, it's non-priority so we can look at it next week."
She picks up her bag from the floor. "And don't go spending your whole weekend on Tyrion's assignment either. We could always look at it on Monday morning and mail it to his division in the afternoon." She sounds serious enough and Jaime knows Brienne won’t just say something that she does not mean. That means he has something to look forward to if he fails this weekend.
“Okay, see you Monday, then.” Brienne smiles at his words.
“See you on Monday.” Jaime nods and watches her as she leaves.
The weather seems to match his mood that Saturday morning. Cloudy, boring and not sure if it will turn even more sour.
Still, Jaime opens his laptop on the small table on his apartment’s balcony, carrying a mug filled with coffee in one hand and an extra sweater in the other. First, he googles his way through their official database, scanning it for information on all of their developments of the last year. Someone in administration, or marketing must have kept a clear record of their work, right?
No such luck. Jaime finds an unofficial and unpublished document about the growth of their work force and some charts on finances, but nothing useful.
He makes a short bullet list about the most important changes he can remember, but deletes that too as it only contains the things from his division. Using is old agenda is just as useless.
Jaime walks around his floor, reading the old speech oud loud, finding that they did change it a little bit over the years, but never wrote it down. Jaime knows he can’t get away with just adjusting the old speech, but that is what he finds himself doing.
By the time he’s done with that, he looks up to find it only past ten pm. And he’s already feeling like his brain is done for the day. Damn.
Maybe he should just call Tyrion and tell him to write the speech himself. Whatever Jaime’s going to present next week will probably be scratched and improved immediately, so what’s the point in sweating now. Jaime’s the one who calculates their yearly budget when Tyrion tells him about his futuristic and sometimes impossible visions, who delegates the work across their different divisions when a new project comes in, who smiles at the media as long as Tyrion tells him what to say, who delegates with overseas contracts when Tyrion tells him what their goal is.
Jaime can work his miracles and push a business out of the ground against their father’s wishes as long as Tyrion gives him some directions. When there are no handholds to work with? That’s when Jaime gets stuck.
“Maybe a break would be good.” Jaime tells his empty apartment. He grabs his coat and his keys, intending to take a walk before the weather decides that today is cancelled.
As a last thought, Jaime packs his laptop and swings his bag over his shoulder. Maybe a change in scenery in his work environment will do him some good.
So Jaime leaves his uptown apartment and starts walking in a random direction. It doesn’t take long to find a nice looking coffee shop that has Wifi and a small clientele he could use to work in. He orders a fancy coffee and a sandwich, even though it’s not even close to noon, or anything that could function as lunch time.
Jaime does not immediately open his laptop when he sits down. No, he takes his time savouring his sandwich and coffee. He reads a newspaper he finds lying around. He talks with the barista behind the counter and then with the little old lady ordering two cups of sencha green tea. Laughs at a photo Bronn sends him on his phone and orders another cup of coffee, this time something sweet and different.
No, Jaime Lannister does anything except work on his damn speech.
So by the time an hour or so has passed, Jaime feels righteously irritated with himself. And Tyrion. Especially Tyrion.
But there’s nothing he can do about it, since Tyrion is unattainable again – Jaime tried checking in om him on his phone. And Jaime did promise to do this for his brother, so he finally opens his laptop bag and starts booting up his computer.
It’s getting close to noon, so more people a flitting in to order drinks and or food and every time the door opens, a little bell jingles. It jingles often enough that it’s starting to grate on Jaime’s nerves. Why did he think this was a good idea again?
It’s not packed yet, but Jaime puts his bag on the chair next to him and places some papers on the table. Just to make sure people understand that he needs his space.
A group of teenagers enters the store – again that damned bell – and one of them is loudly humming an out of tune version of the Star Wars theme while the rest is making an awful lot of noise as they decide what to order. Jaime wonders if he had the foresight to bring his earphones with him to help him with blocking out the noise, but no such luck. He rummages through his bag some more in search for the damned things, not paying attention to the counter behind him.
“You don’t know shit about Star Wars!” is what one of the boys yells at their friends. A loud gasp follows and then- Slap!
Someone gets hit with an open palm. The store is silent for a second before the others in the boy’s group have time to react, giving Jaime time to turn around in his chair. Jaime’s breath stocks as he turns to face the counter: these five kids making a scene are Brienne’s children!
Podrick, recognisable by his mop of brown hair and fluorescent sneakers under his casual clothes, stands at the counter with his hand raised to his cheek. The thrower of that mighty face-slap turns out to be little Arya. She seems just as surprised as the boy, eyes staring wide.
“Please don’t tell Brinny, I didn’t mean it!” she blurts out, sounding shocked herself. The other boys and Sansa must think the situation hilarious as they are all laughing out loud now. The kid named Gendry has placed his arms and head on the counter to keep himself standing up.
“Then where is my ‘sorry Podrick’?” Podrick says pretend-annoyed, but Jaime sees that the boy is already laughing too. A real smile appears on his face as the dark haired girl starts apologizing and hugging him tightly.
The young barista behind the counter clearly has no idea how to react, except to ask for their order again, but the five continue ignoring her as Sansa and Gendry almost simultaneously spot their Mom’s boss sitting only a few feet away, openly staring at them.
“What are you doing here?” Sansa asks surprised and all her siblings turn around to look at him. Five pairs of eyes stare down at him like a set of hungry little animals. Jaime opens his mouth to answer, but no words come forth. His laptop has finally booted up and the cursor blinks in his periphery. It is near lunch time and Jaime hasn’t written a single word for his speech, so the right answer would be ‘nothing’.
Then, the bell rings again and Jaime is saved from answering that question for a few more minutes as Brienne, Ser Mom and Best Secretary herself, walks in. Just as at that demi-first meeting on her lawn, she’s wearing casual clothes and a backpack, holding a parking receipt in her hands. She looks comfortably calm and ready to spend the day in town with her little family.
Her eyes scan the shop, landing on her kids near the counter and doing a double take when she spots him too.
“Jaime, what-! Nice to see you here..” She catches herself. Then, she slowly walks towards them.
“Didn’t know you would be here either.” He answers, cringing for sounding so stupid. Brienne opens and closes he mouth, not knowing how to answer him. Clearly, both of them have no idea how to talk to the other outside of the office floor anymore.
Brienne’s kids watch their awkward conversation come to a standstill. Their eyes shoot from one adult to the other, waiting for something to happen. Are these five truly angry to see him, or just surprised? And what would Brienne be thinking?
“Can I…Ma’am, would you like to order something?” the young barista behind the counter tries again. The question breaks the tension in the group and the kids all fall in line to order their donuts and soft drinks. Brienne asks for a simple coffee, like Jaime imagined she would.
Jaime tries not to eavesdrop as the family of six shuffle slowly towards the register, so he turns back to his computer. They chatter about superior donut flavours and forgetting something at home and Jaime imagines that this must be their ‘normal’; Brienne taking them to the city to buy clothes, or to see a movie or something. No one mentions Star Wars or anything that happened before and the accident seems all but forgotten and forgiven as Jaime hears the kids laugh and joke.
One of the girls at the counter hisses something unintelligible and then; “Can we come sit here?” Jaime’s head shoots up to see Bran already steering himself to the other side of Jaime’s table. He's smiling as if he's testing the waters, waiting for Jaime to do something.
“Oh! Bran there are other tables-” Brienne, again does not how to direct the attention away from her boss as Bran just decides to move Jaime’s stuff out of the way to make space for his donut and his cup. Jaime, not knowing what to say, starts to move his stuff too. “Alright, but only if we’re not intruding.” Brienne sounds unsure of the situation, but Jaime's already rolling with it, not wanting to give 'mister intruder' the satisfaction of making Jaime out to be some asshole who cannot share a table.
“You’re not, believe me. A break might be nice.” And with that, Jaime claps his freshly booted laptop shut.
Brienne and her kids all settle in around his table, dragging chairs over and placing their food at the table. Since it's a Saturday, none of them are wearing school uniforms. Instead, they're wearing casual clothes ranging form a simple blue blouses and blue jeans- Podrick and Bran - to black band logo shirts and ripped pants - Arya - to a green blouse and skirt that looks almost formal - Sansa - to broad cameo pants and a vest with some outdoors logo - Gendry. They all seem to be going to different things.
“So.. what are you doing on this fine Saturday morning?” Asking feels awkward, but Jaime knows that not asking them anything would be even more so.
“We’re going to Winter Gallery.” Arya says to her donut. She’s clearly not happy about Bran’s table choice, but is still sociable enough to sit through it. Jaime remembers a younger Tyrion ignoring social cues on purpose and sitting on a table when he did not want to sit next to their sister at a fundraiser of their father’s company.
“And it’s a gallery about..” Jaime arches his brow, but none of the kids explain further, all content and focussed on sipping their drinks and eating their donuts. Sansa is the only one with a different pastry and she takes her time to slowly wrap the paper off a yellow frosted cupcake.
“It’s a convention in the library across the street.” Brienne is the one to explain “They sell books and there are readings and stands. It’s fun.”
Jaime nods even if it doesn’t sound fun to him at all. Tyrion would probably love it; people talking about books all day long, showing off their knowledge about old dusty literature. Although, Brienne doesn’t look like a parent who would drag her kids along to boring happenings, so if these kids consider going, then it must be something the ‘youth of today’ is interested in.
“And let me guess, it’s mostly about fantasy books?” It’s an honest question, but it is not received as such.
“And science fiction.” The youngest girl tells him. Arya seems a little bit angry at his absence of interest in fantasy books, but these kids already know about his lack of knowledge about their favourite book series. “Not that you would know the difference.” She finishes with a smug look.
What they don’t know is that Jaime actually has said fantasy series standing on the kitchen table of his apartment and that Jaime is half-way through reading the first book. Well, he skipped some chapters that seemed less interesting – they all had a lack of Lady Knights in them – but that isn’t the point. Jaime has just not found the motivation to read chapters about sad little wizard kids in the woods and grumpy brooding teenagers in blacksmiths.
“I think I prefer fantasy above science-fiction,” he answers “but that’s probably because I’m not that much into these post-apocalyptic worlds.” Jaime feels like that’s something his brother would say, maybe it even is something Jaime even overheard from the famous Shae vs. Tyrion debates that happen from time to time.
“You do?” Arya asks with doubt dripping in her voice.
“Yes, I do.” Jaime counters. And why is he even trying to verbally show off against this teenager?
“Weren’t you reading your way through the Oathkeeper series?” Brienne asks as if in a revelation. It’s the first thing she said in a while, content to drink her coffee and watch her daughter and her boss bicker about science fantasy. Jaime turns around to stare at her; how does she even know that? He’s sure he never told her.
“Tyrion told me you were reading them. I don’t know why he did that.” She mumbles quietly, like she knows what he was about to ask. Her very blue eyes won’t let him look away and Jaime feels like she’s turning him inside out somehow. Moving might break this spell and Jaime does not want that.
“I..I do. I mean, I bought the first book as a present for someone, but they already had it so.. you know?” It’s a lie, again, but Jaime somehow can’t tell Brienne he bought it after she told him how this story had a ‘personal meaning’ for her.
“I kept it for myself.” He tells her just as quietly.
“You did?” Podrick perks up at that. “Which character’s chapters do you like best?”
The other Tarth kids seem interested in his answer too. Brienne still looks at him with this puzzling stare, like she’s both already impressed and still trying to read his intention at the same time. He blinks and tries to shrug this weird feeling off.
Jaime’s reminded of the single chapter he read last week: how the Lady Knight and her squire came up on a thick forest and had to ask for help. How the Lady Knight mistrusted their guide and how their guide accused her of boring holes in his head with her icy stare.
Brienne’s blue eyes aren’t cold, but Jaime doesn’t want to tell her or her kids about how the chapters of the Lady Knight are almost the only ones he has read.
“I’m not sure if I have a favourite character yet.” He tells them slowly, acting like he’s thinking about all the different characters he’s read. Podrick and Sansa visibly deflate at his answer, so Jaime feels the need to say more: “I did like it when the young wizard finally started to understand his powers more.”
Podrick laughs and Bran narrows his eyes. “He’s not a wizard, you know. He’s a Skinchanger!” the youngest boy says, sounding personally offended.
“Not where I am at in the story. They say his powers are ‘wizardry’, wouldn’t you call that the powers of a wizard?” Jaime counters.
“Then you should read faster, you’ll find out soon that his visions are-”
“Oh my gosh Bran, spoilers!” Sansa says, pretending to be scandalised. Jaime notices that that’s something they do pretty often; acting like one of the others is a personal bane to their existence, but so far, none of them seem to actually mean it.
“You should come with us then.” Podrick tells him and for a second or two Jaime is confused as to where he should go, but then-
“You want me to come to the library? With you?” Jaime quickly looks at Brienne; what will she think of it? His secretary seems reluctant, looking at Jaime to gauge his opinion in return. “Mister Lannister is probably working on something..”
When Jaime hears her reluctance, giving him a way to pass the invitation, Jaime knows he wants to come with them to the library. Not because going to the library sounds cool, or because staying behind to work on his speech alone sounds like a sad idea. No, because imagining them leaving his table and leaving him behind sounds like the worst option somehow.
“No! No, I would love to join you.” He blurts out. “If it’s no trouble, of course.” Brienne nods and none of the kids protest. He does not want them to leave, so he agrees to come with.
They clear the table – Jaime putting away his laptop he never worked on – and make the short walk across the streets to the library. Bran and Podrick interrogate him some more on his opinions and Jaime tries to answer truthfully but not uninterested.
The conversation turns to what the kids are hoping to see and do at the convention. Sansa hopes to get her favourite autobiography signed, Arya wants to buy second-hand comics, Podrick has no expectations but gets claimed by Bran to ‘look at dice’ or whatever that might mean and Gendry mentions a certain stand he wants to check out. It slowly dawns on Jaime that this truly isn’t just a library visit.
Their chat does circle back around to their Oathkeeper books – after he asks Brienne what she wants to do: ‘just check out some books’ – when Sansa mentions Jaime might go and buy the second Oathkeeper book. Jaime looks confused for a moment before-
“Oh! Yes, for when I finish the one I already have, that’s a good idea.” Sansa smiles at that and Jaime decides that having a double book at home isn’t that bad. He could actually give one to his nephew or niece, or something.
When they finally enter the main hall, Brienne just manages to keep her kids from immediately scattering, but it’s a near thing. She reminds them all of an apparently pre-discussed rule: “Thirty minutes of roaming and then we meet up again near the front.”
All kids nod and then they’re off; Pod speedily wheeling Bran in the direction of a nearby stand covered in miniature monsters and dice, Sansa moves over to a book section and immediately starts chatting with the seller, Gendry makes a beeline for a medieval looking stand in the back of the hall and Arya just.. disappears from view.
Jaime cranes his neck to spot her, with no luck, but stops as he sees that Brienne isn’t all that worried where she is. She seems rather relaxed even, more at ease than he’s ever seen her in the office.
“So what do we do now?” He asks her. “Do we wait here until they return?”
Brienne smiles at that. “We don’t have to. We can check out some stands if you’d like?”
“Your kids…?”
“All know how to read a clock and know not to get in trouble.” She answers and who is Jaime to argue with that, so he lets her lead him to one of the nearest tables.
The hall is pretty big and filled with different kinds of stands all standing in a big circle. The centre of the hall is saved for a big podium where an older woman is presenting young children’s books. Most tables display books, yes, but there are some interesting tables that contain board games, soap and other trinkets, woven bookmarks and dreamcatchers, comic books from Asia and small plastic figures, and more. Brienne leaves the fancier tables to her kids –Jaime spots one or to walking around – and leads him to an section selling second-hand books.
And that’s how Jaime Lannister finds himself checking out book stands with Brienne of Tarth on a rainy Saturday. She leads him through a few tables until she finds one that is deemed worthy and the next twenty or so minutes are spent reading covers and skimming backs of books.
For Jaime, it feels like one of their Tuesday middays where Brienne would sit down with him in his office and go over the plans for an upcoming trip or something akin. An easy and familiar back and forth starts between them as Brienne asks him about the books he remembers reading for college and she tells him about the things she’s read through her life in return.
"I did read some classics, my father had 'The old man and the Sea' on his mantlepiece like some kind of shrine." She tells him.
"And right he was! That's a masterpiece, if you ask me." Jaime jokes.
Brienne laughs; "Do you even know that one?"
"Nope!"
Again, Tyrion would probably know what insightful questions to ask, or conclusions to draw from Brienne’s answers, but Jaime thinks he does alright. It’s still Brienne and – aside from the surprise meeting this morning – talking to Brienne hasn’t been difficult in months. She doesn’t buy any book in the tight thirty minutes they have, but it still feels like a win for Jaime somehow.
“Looks like we went back to early.” Jaime tells her as they return to a still empty meeting place. They spotted Gendry on their way back, but Jaime’s already lost the boy in the crowds again. How Brienne manages to keep track of five of them seems excessive.
“Patience.” Is all she says with a smile in her voice and within a minute or two, all kids return from their own exploration. Sansa walks towards them shrieking, presenting a small pamphlet; “Ser Mom, look at this! They have concerts! In the city! Next month!”
Jaime leans over Brienne’s shoulder, trying to read the paper in the girls’ hand. It contains a band setup, a logo and some dates.
“We can go right?” sounds the voice or Arya right next to him. Jaime has to suppress the knee-jerk reaction to jump away at the sudden appearance of the girl, so he misses Brienne’s initial reaction to the poster. “- Let’s see if we can find someone to go with first, okay?”
The girls high-five and carefully put the pamphlet away and then, without warning, some kind of mastermind strategizing begins: Where to go first, who gets to stay where for how long and how to get there. Which seems excessive, as the hall is mostly round and for Jaime that would mean the only decision to make is clockwise, or counter clockwise.
Brienne might agree with him, but she leaves the decisions up to her five kids, so it’s mostly bickering and some stone-paper-scissors ruling, plus they do it with as much finesse Jaime remembers from when they almost got caught buying Mother’s Day presents with their Mom’s boss.
“Why don’t you all bring dice with you to roll who goes first?” Jaime mumbles sarcastically and he’s reminded that these kids don’t do sarcasm – at least not when it’s from him – so Bran offers to buy a die right here and right now with them, but the others see this as cheating, since the dice stand is the one thing he wants to visit anyway.
The Tarth family does come to a decision and the next hour or so they spend together walking around the hall, Brienne buying each kid a simple trinket, or book.
She laughs a lot as Bran explains in some kind of commercial voice why he has to have a golden dragon figure for ‘The game’. And Sansa introduces Jaime to the Asian comic world of ‘Manga’ and ‘Anime’ and more while her sister buys an old volume of some strange show. Podrick buys a simple book and then, again, gets into an argument. This time about school sports teams with Gendry, but no bitchslaps are dished out. The others join in and Jaime learns that they’ve all known al lot of different schools, as far as Kings’ Landing and Winterfell.
The last stop they make is Gendry’s medieval stand, which turns out to contain stuff like real swords and shields. Arya gasps in delight, but Brienne frowns, already seeing the prize labels. Even Jaime, who knows he was considered ‘a spoiled rich kid’ in his youth, knows these prizes don’t exactly belong between the ‘little trinkets’.
“It’s not what you think, but if you…” Gendry sounds nervous now, something that Jaime hasn’t seen in the boy before. “..If it’s too much, I can understand.”
And then he grabs an old helmet from beneath a roughly woven cape. It’s an old thing, scratched on one side and dented on the other. It still has one silvery metal horn and a gaping hole where a second one must have been, giving it the looks of a Viking’s helmet. Or a Bull’s head.
The rest of the Tarth family form a circle around him, admiring the helmet with oh’s and ah’s. “It looks pretty much the same.” Sansa mumbles. It’s like a spell has set over the little family and Jaime doesn’t understand why they’re all so focussed on an ugly helmet.
Brienne’s already looking for cash in her wallet, since this stand also doesn’t accept credit cards. The others are pitching in with comments like: “I still have five pounds left.” and “Maybe if I run back to the car? We might have something left in the trunk.”
And Tyrion once told him that history does not repeat itself, but that it often rhymes, so Jaime already know what he’s about to do; He makes a grab for his own wallet, looking for any bills left.
“Here you go.” He tells her softly, holding the remaining amount of needed cash out.
“Jaime, don’t be absurd.” Brienne sounds almost scandalised when she sees it. But Jaime never not learned to solve problems by throwing money at it and if it will make Brienne happy, then he will gladly pay for anything her kids want.
So Jaime snatches the few bills out of Brienne’s hands and hands the full sum over to the seller, who seems to be glad to get rid of the metal old thing.
Gendry just looks very grateful. The boy waits until he has caught Jaime’s eye and then nods. The rest of Brienne’s kids are strangely quiet, staring at him or their mom again.. “I’ll pay you back on Monday.” Brienne promises him solemnly and it might be a family tick.
“Don’t worry about it.” Is all that Jaime says, because he honestly doesn’t care if she pays him back or not. An helmet is a small price for the memory of today, Jaime thinks.
They find themselves wandering for another twenty minutes or so. Brienne buys sweets with the few remaining coins she has and Jaime leaves the library chewing on gummy bears and fruit cubes. They all take the ramp and Sansa leans over Bran so they can speed down the slope, scaring pigeons as they go.
“Would you look at that.” He says as they enter the streets; the weather has cleared and sunlight is slowly peeking around the high buildings. There are puddles on the sidewalk, but no more threatening rainclouds hanging in the sky. Even the city smell seems gone for the moment.
“And it better stays this way,” Arya grumbles “I’m not going to practice if it starts raining again, Brinny.”
“We’ll see.” Is al their Ser Mom says, not promising anything yet.
They walk together all the way to the parking spot, but then Brienne moves the two of them apart from the group and Jaime knows it’s to say goodbye. The kids wave as they step towards the car and Podrick even yells a goodbye in Jaime’s direction. The boys help Bran in the front seat and Bran helps by throwing candy at Arya in the back. It's still a contained situation, but Jaime imagines that Brienne will be returning soon to minimise the chaos; her presence does seem to help with that.
So she starts with looking at him for a few seconds, like he’s some kind of puzzle again and Jaime feels his cheeks heating for some reason.
“Again, thank you for the helmet...And thank you just in general.”
“I should probably be thanking you, for today and all, you know?” Talking feels difficult again when she’s staring at him like that.
“But… what about the speech?” Jaime smiles at her question: so she had known of course. Jaime managed to forget about the damn speech while they were inside the library hall, but now he remembers the damned thing again.
“I still have Sunday and Monday morning to work on it. Don’t worry, I'll finish it on time.” She nods at his reassurance.
“And even if you didn’t,” she continues with a smile “you have a secretary who is more than willing to help.”
Jaime can’t help laughing out loud. Behind Brienne, a bag of candy flies through the car. Jaime’s sure she cannot see it, but something on his face is telling enough. She pretend-sighs like Jaime’s seen her teenagers do before: “They’re doing something, aren’t they?” she sounds fond when she says it.
Jaime nods with a grin still on his face. “See you on Monday?”
“See you on Monday.”