Chapter Text
“What happened?” Jaime asked as he rushed in. “I got a text from Sansa Stark saying you were in an accident.”
“I slipped on some ice and fractured my fibula.” Brienne said while gesturing to her left leg. It was set in a purple cast and prop up on a series of pillows.
“Fuck.” Jaime exclaimed. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No. Sansa and Marg already took care of everything.”
Jaime surveyed her and her surroundings; probably noticing the drinks, snacks, magazines, and books that had been carefully arranged around her.
“How bad did it hurt?” He asked.
Part of her wanted to tell him all about it. About how agonizing it had been. She wondered if he would hold her if she cried. But her pride won out. She wouldn't allow herself to look weak in front of Jaime.
“It hurt intensely but I could handle it,” she told him almost dispassionately.
“Did it hurt more or less than getting swiped at by a bear?” He asked.
“It was a very different kind of pain,” she replied finding it odd that Jaime had brought that up. The bear attack had been over a year ago and was unrelated to the nature of her current injury. However, she was still very grateful to him for saving her life.
“So what now?” He asked sitting next to her on the couch.
“I basically have to sit around for weeks with my leg elevated and wait for it to heal. Then I have to start physical therapy.”
“Why is your cast purple?” He inquired while staring at it.
“Because Sansa told me to get a purple cast.” She replied feeling foolish. She’d been in so much pain she’d agreed to it without much thought.
“Are you still going to Tarth?” Jaime asked dubiously.
“Probably not.”
She could imagine it. Everyone would stare at her as she lumbered about in her cast. She was dependent on her cumbersome crutches besides. They were extra longs ones. They took up too much space. Just like she did. And how was she supposed to carry her luggage while she used those things? No. Traveling now would be too impractical. She’d visit in a few months.
“I have to call my dad,” she announced abruptly. As her phone rang she noticed that Jaime had begun texting furiously.
“Brienne.” Her father greeted warmly.
“Hi Dad.” She replied anxiously into the phone. “I have bad news. I was in an accident.”
“Oh Starfish, tell me you’re alright?” Her father demanded. His joyous drawl now morphed into doleful alarm.
“It’s nothing serious. I mean, I broke my leg, but other than that I’m fine.”
“Good Lord. What happened?”
“I slipped on ice. It was right in front of my apartment building.”
“Oh no. How long was it until you were able to get help?”
“I had my phone in my pocket. I called my friends Sansa and Margaery. They came right over and took me to the emergency room.” Jaime made some sound, something between a groan and snarl. She turned towards the noise only to find Jaime looking directly at her. “What?” She mouthed, but didn't wait for his response. Her father was talking to her.
“That must have been awful. I'm so grateful that your friends were able to help you.”
“I'm grateful too.” She really was. It would have been terrible to be lying on that icy sidewalk hoping that the person who came to give her aid would not spend too much time noticing her freakish appearance before they finally decided to help her.
“What did the doctor say?”
“That I have a fractured fibula in my left leg. It’s a non-displacement fracture so I don't have to get surgery. It's going to take 4-6 weeks to heal.”
“Are you able to walk at all?”
“I have to use crutches. But it's not too bad. I'm on painkillers. Ones that don't make me feel sleepy. As long as I don't put weight on my leg I'm okay. The worst part is that I'm not going to be able to come home. I just can't manage traveling right now.”
“That breaks my heart, Starfish. I hate to think of you all by yourself on Christmas and with a broken leg. I wish I could come to you, but…”
Hurricane Aegon strikes again, Brienne thought ruefully. The Governor of Tarth could not go on holiday while his constituents were still reeling from the aftermath. It had been over four months ago since the natural disaster, but Tarth’s seafaring commerce was still hurting. Too many ships had been damaged in the storm. Her own beloved sailboat had taken a beating as well.
“I know Dad. Tarth needs you. I understand that. I don't want you to worry about me. I'm sad that I won't see you this Christmas, but other than that I'm fine.”
“Well, we're really going to miss you this year. Mera can't wait to meet you.”
“I can't wait to meet Mera either.” She said while injecting an eagerness into her voice that she really didn't feel.
“Alright Sweetling, I want you to get better so you can come visit as soon as possible.”
“I will.” She promised.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad. I hope you and Mera have a wonderful Christmas.”
“Take care, Starfish.”
“Bye.”
She hung up.
“Who’s Mera?” Jaime asked. He always eavesdropped on her conversations.
“My Dad’s new girlfriend.” She said turning red.
“Another one?” Jaime laughed. “He has a new one every year.”
“So.” She said defensively. It wasn't her place to judge her father's relationships and it certainly wasn't Jaime's. Yet, she was thankful that her father’s popularity was enough to insulate him from accusations of being a womanizer.
“Don't get cranky, wench.”
“My name is Brienne.” She informed him as she'd done the million times before.
“Do you think I don't know your name?”
“Well, you keep calling me wench so I guess sometimes you get confused.”
Jaime sighed. “How'd he take the news?”
“He was concerned and a bit disappointed that I'm not coming home. He didn't want me to be by myself for the holidays, especially while I have a broken leg. But he knows that traveling right now would be worse for me than being alone on Christmas.”
“You won't be alone. I'll be here.” Jaime informed her.
“You'll be here?” She was shocked. She'd expected to be utterly solitary on December 25th. It had been on her mind while Marg and Sansa drove her back from the hospital. She figured she'd get some reading done or…
“Where else would I go?”
“Home. To your family.”
He made a face.
“I was disowned, remember? That means I'm officially banished from all family functions.”
Was that really why he wasn't going?
“I didn't think it would stick.” She admitted.
“Oh it stuck. Tywin is as implacable as they come.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry for me. Be sorry for Tyrion. He's the one set to attend the Lannister Winter Extravaganza. It should have all the holiday warmth of a Wight Christmas party.”
She knew, at least in part, some of the troubles he had with his father and with his sister. He had shared his secrets with her. Still, she didn't know what to say.
“So Christmas is cancelled for the both of us?” She asked.
“No. Fuck no.” Jaime protested with an enthusiasm that seemed out of place.
“What?”
“We need to have our own Christmas.”
“Okay.” She agreed awkwardly. “When are you getting back from your trip?”
“That had to be cancelled.”
“What!” That sent her panicking. “But just last night you were talking about your pre-Christmas ski trip with Tyrion and Daven.”
“That was yesterday. This is today.” He said causally, as if his previous plans meant little and less.
“Jaime, go on your trip. Come back afterwards if you don’t want to go home. You just…”
“The trip has been cancelled, Brienne.” He interrupted. “I’m staying right here.”
“Does Tyrion know about this?”
“Yes, he knows.” Jaime said tired of the topic. “So about Christmas, we have to make plans. What do you usually have for Christmas dinner?”
“I don’t know… the usual stuff.” She mumbled as she had a mental break down. This ruined everything. All the planning she'd done. She had even spoken to Tyrion about it.
“The usual stuff?” Jaime repeated wryly. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”
“Why was the trip cancelled?” She asked.
“Because it was.”
“But why?”
“Why are you so obsessed with that trip? It’s not like I even ski anymore. I only agreed to go because Tyrion kept insisting I join him. Just let it go, wench. Something came up. The trip was cancelled.”
“Fine.” She said sullenly. Inside she wanted to scream.
“Listen. We have to focus on what really matters. The reason for the season. I’m talking about lights, decorations, presents, and food. Let’s start with food. I want a big traditional Christmas dinner. That’s why I need actual names of dishes you want served.”
“Wait, who is making this dinner?” She asked, suddenly concerned about a matter other than her failed skiing surprise for Jaime.
“I’m making this dinner.” He announced proudly.
“You’re making Christmas dinner?” She questioned skeptically. It just seemed so implausible. Jaime didn't cook. In all the time they'd lived together, she'd never seen him make anything more complicated than a cup of tea.
“Why not? Because I lack a hand? That's pretty ableist of you, Brienne. I'd think you'd have more compassion towards a poor cripple like myself, especially considering your current condition.”
“It's not because of that.” She said instantly, apologetically, the sudden guilt turning her stomach to knots. She'd never meant it like that. “It's just that you never cook. You either get take-out or eat what I make.”
“I can cook if I want to.” He proclaimed stubbornly.
“I'm sure you can, but I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into. Making a dinner… a big traditional Christmas dinner… it can be a lot of work.”
“Yee of little faith.” He said in mock disapproval. “You know Brienne, there's this thing called the Internet. You can search for all types of stuff on it. Like if you Google CHRISTMAS DINNER, you'll find all kinds of recipes and ingredient lists and instructions. It's not that hard.”
I have faith in you, she wanted to tell him. Hand or no hand, Jaime was an extremely capable man. He could make Christmas dinner if he really wanted to. She didn't doubt that.
“Well, if you feel up to it I think it's a good idea.” She said instead.
“Oh, I'm up for it”. He assured her, his bright green eyes sparkling mischievously.
“I'm glad, Jaime.” She replied encouragingly, her heart suddenly soaring despite the day's events.
Her leg hurt. She was still feeling the disappointment of Jaime's cancelled surprise. The disappointment of her own cancelled trip. But still, she was pleased that Jaime was pushing himself to do something outside his comfort zone. She'd wanted that for him. That had been the motivation behind the ski trip surprise.
“Okay. But don’t make this into something where you're proud of me for learning to ‘live with my disability’.” He said sardonically but with a measure of good humor hidden underneath. "I mean it Brienne, or I swear we're having nothing but old pretzels for Christmas.”
“I won't.” She promised squeakily. For a terrifying second she'd been sure Jaime had read her thoughts. Perhaps she was lucky the ski thing fell through. He probably would have hated her gift.
“Brienne.”
“Yes, Jaime?”
“You don’t have to worry about cooking or anything else relating to Christmas or anything. I'm going to take care of it.”
“But I want to help.” She insisted. All of a sudden, it seemed important that she did her part. “I'm not very mobile at the moment, but I can still look for recipes and chop stuff and stir.”
“Deal.” Jaime said while smiling his happiest of smiles. The edge to his characteristically cutting grin was smooth and velvety for a change. No trace of bitterness or mocking touched his eyes. She had rarely seen him thus.
An odd excitement coursed through her entire body, a dizzying thrill that dulled the pain of her broken leg somehow. It must be the spirit of the season she quickly told herself.