#happy nameday mel

[blujayonthewing]

I've had Melliwyk for SIX YEARS

[ddagent]

PROMPTING BOTH! HS arranged marriage and wedding planner soulmate AU! Both sound fab!

Thank you! I’m really trying to regain the energy of having fun with what I write, and mixing up tropes like this is a lot of fun. If you missed it, I wrote HS arranged marriage here. I hope you enjoy this!

“What’s going on with your wrist?”

Jaime stopped the scratch of his fingers against his shirt sleeve and frowned at his brother. “I’m not sure. I think it’s the new watch Mel bought me. Maybe I’m having a reaction to the metal.” He shrugged. “I’ll take it off when we get inside.”

“I still don’t know why you had to drag me along to this.”

This being visiting a number of wedding venues for Jaime’s upcoming nuptials to Melara, his sister’s childhood friend and his partner for the past three years. “I told you, Mel got called into work, and the wedding planner needs a decision so we can finally book a place. Mel’s already seen them, so I just need to sign off.”

Tyrion raised a single eyebrow. “And you couldn’t have seen them by yourself?”

Jaime cleared his throat, diverting his gaze out the window lest his brother draw conclusions that had no basis in reality. “No. And we’re here.”

The first of three possible venues was the Dragonglass Hotel. As Jaime stepped out of the car and onto the kerb, he knew instantly that this was not the place. The building was all sleek glass and modern furnishings; the foyer minimalistic, the colour scheme lashings of black and red. The two Lannisters looked entirely out of place. As did their wedding planner in a crisp blue shirt; the corner of her collar misfolded, the only error in her otherwise immaculate ensemble. 

“Mister Lannister!” Brienne called out, waving her hand to get his attention. As if she hadn’t caught it already. “Did you find the venue okay?”

“Your directions were, as always, precise. Right down to the traffic lights.” A fine pink flush formed across Brienne’s cheeks. Jaime grinned. “Mel couldn’t join us; got called into work. This is my brother, the best man. Tyrion, this is our wedding planner, Brienne Tarth.”

“A pleasure.”

They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Jaime took in little; he was too concerned by the persistent itch at his wrist. He ran his nails along the skin, hoping to provide a modicum of relief. Nothing. He would have to take that damn watch off, throw it in a drawer, and hope Mel never asked after it so he wouldn’t have to explain that a token of her affection was causing him such irritation. 

Suddenly, Jaime felt someone tug at his jacket sleeve. He looked down to see a girl, no older than seven, look at him with bright green eyes. She presented her wrist. “I got mine today, too.” 

“That’s not—”

“—Jaime!” He jerked his head to his right, where Tyrion and Brienne had already made a few steps forward. “We’re heading off to see the event room now. Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.”

With one last scratch to his wrist, Jaime joined his brother and Brienne in the direction of the Dragonglass event room. His thoughts, however, drifted back to the little girl waiting to check out. It was just the watch. It couldn’t be–not after all this time. Most received their soul marks upon their seventh nameday; a matching one forming upon their soulmates wrist. But not everyone was so lucky. Some were not made for love; some were not ready for it. When Jaime’s hadn’t appeared, he had tried to see it as a blessing. He could choose whom he loved, rather than it being forced upon him. 

But we don’t get to choose who we love, Jaime thought, and my other half might finally be ready for it. 

It could still be the watch. It had to be the watch. He was getting married in seven months, and he loved Melara. Taking in a deep breath, Jaime recommitted himself to exploring wedding venues. He drew close to Brienne and peppered her with questions about the reception; the space for dancing; the capacity for guests to stay in the hotel itself. Talking to Brienne was a great help: he was refocused on his wedding and the itch on his wrist began to lessen. See, he told the doubting portion of his brain, it was just the watch. 

“And we’re here!” 

Brienne swept open the doors to the event hall which was, in essence, a big glass box. Light flooded the room; the view over the Bay spectacular. Jaime could, in some way, see the appeal. Modern, spacious, full of light. But it was also very...nothing. 

“You’re not happy.”

Jaime huffed, catching Brienne’s pointed gaze. “Is it that obvious?” 

Brienne tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “On occasion. Ms Hetherspoon liked how much light there was; she was considering filling the room with flowers. Obviously, with a guest list as significant as yours, the room would accommodate all five hundred guests.”

“Yes, while they sweat through their tuxedos and dresses.” Jaime pulled at his collar. 

Beside him, Tyrion dragged a crimson handkerchief across his brow. “You could raise orchids in here.”

“There are some downsides to this space,” Brienne admitted. Jaime still marvelled at her ability to find some good in everything, even this room. “But if you’re not happy, Mister Lannister, we can move onto the next space. Although, if I may—��

“—you may,” Jaime grinned. He liked when Brienne went off-book. 

She flushed. “I was thinking we could look outside the city. Somewhere with lots of light and picturesque views for Ms Hetherspoon. Somewhere with history and character for you, Mister Lannister. The grounds of a castle, perhaps.” 

Jaime beamed. A castle. Yes, he liked the sound of that. They had struck lucky with Brienne as their wedding planner; she understood both of their wants and needs much better than he could have ever anticipated. Just then, his wrist began to itch anew. Fuck. “If you’ll both excuse me, I just need to check out the hotel’s other facilities.” 

He left Brienne and Tyrion to discuss alternative venues (Harrenhal was a possibility; Casterly Rock was not) while Jaime sought some privacy to claw at his own wrist. He undid the fastenings of his watch as he walked but still found no relief. In the quiet of a cubicle, Jaime saw why. His soul mark had finally arrived. A golden lion clutching a sapphire in its mouth. Fuck. 

His soulmate was finally ready for him to love them. If only he hadn’t agreed to marry someone else first.