Sansa shook water from her hands as she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was already regretting agreeing to go to her friend Marge's Harry Potter themed Halloween party. Sansa had turned into a home body after her last breakup and her friend was trying to cheer her up. Sansa's head felt like it was throbbing from the loud music coming from the living room. Who invented Dubstep anyway? And why in the world would anyone want to dance to that stuff? Sansa groaned. Hadn't dubstep fallen out of fashion? She questioned why Marge had consented to allowing the DJ to play that crap. She wondered where chivalry had gone. She wished someone would move her around a dance floor to some Ella Fitzgerald or Frank Sinatra. Something with a little soul, not dry hump her to some shitty dubstep in the middle of a crowded living room. Sansa thought that her entire generation had given up on romance with the invention of smart phones. Not that being a Millennial was all bad of course. She loved her avocado toast as much as the next girl. She just wished that the avocado toast was served with a side of romance.

She had agreed to come to this Harry Potter themed Halloween party only because her best friend Marge had begged her to come. She would rather be at home studying, or anywhere but here, but Marge pulled her away from her books. She looked at herself in the mirror. She had to admit that she did look sort of adorable dressed as a Gryffindor. With her red hair she looked just like one of the Weasley siblings. Playing Ginny was a given, although she'd had a hard time shucking off one particularly determined frat boy dressed as Harry Potter. Again, dry humping in a crowded living room was just not her idea of a good time.

The party had first started out fun enough. They had all been sorted by a sorting hat that Marge had made and designed for the event. She of course was sorted as a Gryffindor. What Weasley wasn't a Gryffindor anyway? Marge had gone all out and decorated the entire house as if it were Hogwarts. She even had a moaning Myrtle in the bathroom. When Sansa had first entered into the bathroom and saw moaning Myrtle in the mirror she nearly had a heart attack she was so startled. Marge had also created a setup where the attendees were able to "shop" for their wand and had a, no kidding, paid actor help the wand pick the wizard. Sansa didn't want to even attempt to guess at how much money Marge had spent on the party. But that was Marge. She had more money than sense sometimes, and never hesitated to spend money on having a good time.

As the night went on the party became pretty crowded. There was a group of college kids in the backyard that were playing a makeshift game of drunken Quidditch. The game could be dangerous enough when played fully sober and Sansa hated to see the injuries that might occur once alcohol was involved. She also had to admit that they looked a little bit ridiculous out there running around with sticks between their legs. That was difficult in the best of times but attempting to run in any organized fashion when they could hardly stand up was a completely different story.

Marge, the consummate hostess, made sure that there was ample alcohol for that evening. There was a "mimOsa not mimosA" bar set up for fancy cocktails along with butterbeer. She had even done themed Jell-O shots for each house. She bet that the quidditch players had overindulged in the butterbeer before going outside.

Sansa exited the bathroom and walked into the living room. That's where she saw Marge standing on top of the coffee table throwing Jell-O shot after Jell-O shot back. Sansa decided she didn't really want to spend the evening babysitting her friend and she also didn't really want to be at the party to begin with. Marge's face lit up when she saw her friend and waved her over. When she got to her, Marge jumped off of the coffee table and fell into Yara's lap. She and the Greyjoy were constantly in an on again/off again relationship. Sometimes it was too hard to keep up with their relationship status. Judging by the looks of things and the way that Marge had her arms wrapped around the Greyjoy's neck, Sansa decided it must be on again. Sansa asked Marge if she was feeling okay and Margie answered with an ecstatic yes and that she was having the time of her life.

Yara began to nuzzle into Marge's neck. Yara was never one for discretion. Neither was Marge for that matter. Sansa said "It looks like you're having a good time and my head is kind of killing me so I think I might call it a night" and began to walk towards the door. Marge was too caught up with Yara to notice her friend was leaving.

Sansa sighed in relief as she exited the estate. The crisp night air helped to relax her. Now she had to find her car in the mess of the party. She began to walk down the street in search of her car. The party had really drawn a crowd at Marge's family mansion. There were more people here than she originally had anticipated. Sansa found her car and began to look in her purse for her keys. She couldn't find her keys in her overstuffed bag and tried to elegantly dump out its contents. She knew that was a mistake the moment she started as everything began to spill out into the road. Sansa decided that the night was going from bad to even worse. She finally noticed that she had locked her keys in her car. She slumped onto ground. She wasn't sure what she was going to do. Marge was too drunk to even attempt to drive her home. And it was way too loud at Marge's house for her to stay with her headache. Her sister was away for the weekend and wasn't able to help. Her brothers were off on a hunting trip. There was absolutely no way she would be willing to call her ex-boyfriend to get a ride home. She sighed and tried her best not to cry in frustration. She heard the crunch of gravel as someone walked down the street toward her. She looked up and saw the tall blonde woman from her British Literature class. She has obviously been at the party as well although Sansa hadn't noticed her at the time. She was wearing a Hufflepuff robe that matched the color of her hair.

"Are you alright?" the woman asked Sansa.

Sansa replied that everything that could go wrong that night apparently was going wrong and that the fates were not on her side. She stood up and extended her hand to the woman "hi am Sansa."

The woman extended her hand back for a handshake "nice to meet you, I'm Brienne. I think we have British Literature together?"

Sansa nodded. "I didn't see you at the party. Hufflepuff? Do you pride yourself in being loyal and true?" Sansa asked with a gleam in her eyes.

Brienne lightly blushed. "Something like that. I'm friends with Renly. We're on the fencing team together, and he insisted that I come to the party tonight. I figured I might make a quick appearance. But that crappy music was just way too loud I couldn't even think. So I decided to sneak out of there."

Sansa smiled. "Exactly! Whatever happened to good singers like Sinatra? That music was giving me a headache. I only came because Marge begged me to. But by the end she had enjoyed one too many Jello-shots and was so wrapped up in Yara, I don't think she even noticed that I left. And now I've gone and locked my keys in my car. I would just call a pop-a-lock company but I don't have any cash." Sansa said, giving her tire a solid kick in frustration.

"I would be happy to give you a lift home if you need one." Brienne replied with a smile. "On one condition."

Sansa nervously laughed. "okay?" she asked in trepidation.

"You'd have to join me for a cup of coffee first." Brienne smiled blushing lightly.

"A pumpkin spice latte?! You are a woman after my own heart!" Sansa grinned while admiring Brienne's body. How had she never noticed this woman before?

Brienne offered her arm and Sansa slipped her hand through holding onto Brianne's elbow. As they walked to Brienne's truck, Sansa gazed into Brienne's eyes, noticing their beauty. Those were eyes she could easily get lost in. She smiled, laid her head on Brienne's shoulder and took a deep breath. Brienne smelled faintly of the earth and sea. Fencing team? Sansa thought to herself. Maybe chivalry was still alive, wrapped up in the body of this six foot tall woman. Sansa couldn't help but think that maybe this night was starting to look up after all.