Open RP - Under the Mistletoe

[nerdsexgoddess]

((Backdated to after the Christmas party.))

Thanks to a conversation with Lezard Valeth, Amaranth now knew about mistletoe and what it was used for

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[maid_brienne]

Brienne had left the party early, and was now carrying a large wrapped package, which she intended to deliver personally, and heading toward Slytherin. She had noticed the festive plants, but gave them no particular thought, as she had not been made aware of their significance. So it was that she found herself standing directly under one of the plants in the doorway to the Slytherin common room while she waited for a random house elf to find Jaime Lannister.

[lion_in_white]

The random house-elf returned with a cranky Lannister in tow. Jaime had not signed up for the Secret Santa event, so had no idea where Brienne had been earlier that evening.

"Where have you been, wench?" he demanded. He was carrying two boxes, one large and one very small.

[maid_brienne]

"I wasn't aware I needed to check in with you before I did things," Brienne said peevishly before she could stop herself. It was an automatic response, really, bickering with Jaime. It was very childish, but automatic just the same.

She eyed the boxes in his hand and then held out her own. "I got you something, since it seems to be what people do this time of year," she said, a bit gruffly.

The box contained a couple of practice blades, the hilts designed for people who were either ambidextrous, or, at least in this particular case, left-handed. Unlike the art she had given her actual secret santa, Jaime's reaction really did mean a lot more to her than she would like him to see, so she braced herself for his response.

[lion_in_white]

She or the house-elves who assisted her must have kept in mind the difficulty of unwrapping presents one-handed. Jaime handed Brienne her own gifts, the largish flat box and the tiny box balanced atop it, before he could attempt unwrapping his own, bracing the box between his handless sword-arm and his side so that he could tear at the wrapping with his left hand

[maid_brienne]

"I was hoping you would," Brienne said, pleased by his reaction to her gift. Her own expression was equally fierce.

Carefully, she opened the packages, not at all sure what to expect. But she was pleased with the results.

She held the sweater up against her chest. It looked like it would fit, and it was indeed in the Tarth colors, the blue exactly a match for her eyes. She wondered if Jaime had done that deliberately.

The necklace was something altogether different. She wasn't normally a fan of jewelry, not in the way that most women seemed to be, but this... She would wear this, and not merely because it was a gift from Jaime.

She reached up and fastened the chain around her neck and smiled shyly at Jaime. "Thank you," she said, a bit more huskily than she had intended. "It's lovely."

[lion_in_white]

When the Tarth wench smiled, there was something more innocent and childlike in it than Jaime thought he'd ever seen in an actual child's smile. Baiting her then would be like kicking a puppy. Yet the alternative to snark was sincerity, and Jaime Lannister didn't have the stomach for sincerity, not even with Brienne, not now. So he looked away

[maid_brienne]

Brienne shifted her weight a little, letting the sweater lie folded across her arm. This was the part where things got awkward between them, everything that had gone on before seeming to create a chasm it was difficult to cross.

Sh looked up, startled, at the sprig of mistletoe above her head. "No," she admitted. "I have seen them around today, but I haven't thought to ask their meaning. I suppose they must be some kind of decoration for the season."

[lion_in_white]

Well, shit. If she hadn't already been told by someone else, she'd assume Jaime was lying to her, for his own benefit -- or worse, to make sport of her.

He stifled the urge to facepalm (Westerosi-style, of course. The facepalm is a universal gesture). "They're a thing you would think contrived to make sport of you," he said, evenly, "and therefore I ought to tell you not to stand under it. That would be the gentlemanly thing to do. It would also be extremely boring for everyone. Would you mind standing still, just for a moment? Indulge me."

[maid_brienne]

Brienne arched an eyebrow, glancing from the mistletoe to Jaime. He looked suitably chagrined, and she caught the glint of determination in his gaze. Not being an excessively stupid woman, and knowing Jaime wouldn't give her warning if he really did intend to make sport of her, she found herself blushing, but she stood her ground. "That didn't work out for us very well the last time you attempted it," she pointed out dryly. She ought to move. She really was going to move. To save them both from embarrassment, or maybe to save Jaime from the awkwardness of kissing a maid as untried as she. But of course, she stayed where she was.

[lion_in_white]

"I am honoring a tradition of Hogwarts," Jaime said staunchly, refusing to be deterred by knowledge of his own damned foolishness. There came a moment when retreat was not feasible, even as one knew retreat was the wisest option. "I'd like to think I am honoring you as well."

Decorously, deliberately, he wrapped his bad arm around her -- gold hand stiff at her back -- and planted a chaste kiss on her lips.

[maid_brienne]

Embarrassingly, Brienne blushed, but that was, she supposed, to be expected. When he pulled away, she took a step to one side as well.

"I think I like that tradition," she said lightly. And then, because there were times when a strategic retreat was called for, and she sensed this was going to be one of them, she tried for a casually friendly smile. "Well, I suppose that's that," she said. "Enjoy your gifts and... happy Christmas."

Then she turned on her heel and strode away, trying to hide how bouncy she was feeling at the moment.

[lion_in_white]

Jaime glanced down at his practice swords, so as not to watch the martial Maid stomp away. Gods forbid he be tempted to follow and make mince of what had gone surprisingly well.

He didn't know whether he ought to thank or curse Amaranth for telling him what the mistletoe was. He didn't particularly care, at present. Off he went with his swords, to try to work off his aggression and other urges.