Work Text:
Brienne raked a pile of reddish brown leaves on her front lawn. Her olive green parka swirled around her with every step. Her mind drifted aimlessly from gardening, to having to prep for a meeting on Monday.
Intermittently, she heard noises come from her next door neighbor’s kitchen window. She never thought Jaime Lannister, the most insolent man in all of Westeros, would know his way around a kitchen.
Midway through raking, she heard a loud crash come from the same direction. She stood still and waited for any sounds of distress. As if on cue, she heard a low thud and groaning.
“Dammit, should I check on him?” She murmured to the rake.
Thinking quick on her feet, Brienne gently leaned the rake against the brick wall and briskly walked to her front gate to check for witnesses. Witnesses, she prayed to the Seven would already be on Jaime’s doorstep and spare her from any unnecessary interactions with him. Truthfully, she never quite forgave him for mistaking her for one of his movers when they first met.
To her dismay, no one was on his doorstep, or the walkway, or on the sidewalk. Or anywhere for that matter. His car was the only one parked in front of his house, meaning he was completely alone. Dread began to settle in the pit of her stomach.
As much as she wanted to shrug her neighborly concern aside, she knew the right thing to do was to go over and check on him. No matter how she felt about him, she would never forgive herself if he was hurt.
Brienne opened her wooden gate and sprinted to his crimson red door. His front door somehow seemed brighter up close. The brass lion door knocker looked rather majestic, catching flecks of sunlight on its long mane. It oddly reminded her of Jaime.
She had to check on him. Now.
But before breaking an entry, she decided to forcefully knocked on his solid oak door.
Deafening silence.
Her heart racing, blood pumping, she grabbed the door handle and turned it. The door swung open with a creak. Brienne tentatively stepped in and whispered, “Jaime?”
Thinking the worst, she quietly closed the door behind her. And tiptoed through his modern living room, grabbing a thick leather bound book from his coffee table. Most people have two to three books stacked on their coffee tables, but apparently her neighbor wasn’t most people.
She made her way to the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks. Fragments of a porcelain baking dish were scattered all over the floor. She followed the jagged trail with her eyes, over to remnants of a meaty casserole next to a gold colored stove.
Letting out a deep breath, Brienne muttered, “What the fu-”
She noticed Jaime’s phone discarded on the white marble counter. The phone screen was stuck on some gossip column with the word “Lannister” in the headline. She shrugged the urge to keep reading, and carefully walked around the counter that stood in the middle of his kitchen.
Her stomach dropped at the sight of Jaime slumped against the wall. His arms were still, his legs were stretched out before him. She crouched down beside him, then put the heavy leather bound book down by his legs, and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. “Jaime, are you alright?”
He slowly tilted his head up to look at her. “Brienne? What are you doing here?”
She opened her mouth to respond, when his green gaze moved down to her hand on his shoulder, currently caressing him softly. Her hand stilled and darted back to her side. Mortified, her cheeks felt hot to the touch. Before she could muster up an excuse and bolt, he glanced over to the leather bound book on the floor. Sitting up straight, Jaime chuckled.
“What were you planning to do with that? Bore someone to death with a book?”
Brienne rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” Then added, “I thought you were hurt. I heard a loud noise come from your kitchen when I was raking the front yard.”
Her eyes shifted to the window, then back to Jaime. His smile had turned warm and felt strangely intimate. She cleared her throat. Wanting to desperately change the subject. Brienne asked, “In all seriousness Jaime, are you injured?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m just clearly not having the best of times in the kitchen,” he replied. She looked around at the mess on the floor and responded with a stern, “Clearly.”
Jaime placed his hand on hers. “Thank you for checking on me, neighbor.”
It was a side of Jaime she had never seen before. She started to rethink everything she had known about him.
He then asked, “Can you please help me up?”
“Oh! Of course. Where are my manners?” She almost said in one breath.
Her response made Jaime smile. Brienne realized, she liked making Jaime smile.
Brienne sprung to her feet. He extended his arms out, like a small child. She leaned back on one leg and pulled him up as if he was weightless. She thought she heard him suck in a breath.
They were standing really close to each other.
Their eyes meet.
She wasn’t sure what was happening, but for once she didn’t mind the close proximity to her neighbor.
Jaime glanced down at the floor and nervously ran a hand through his golden hair.
“Seeing how I have a mess to clean up, would you like to go out to dinner with me later?”
Brienne smiles.
"I would love to. But first, let me help.”