#clovdstrife

The first time Brienne met Jaime Lannister, she found him rude, abrasive, arrogant, and entirely stand-offish.

She had a good thing going in this government, and not only were there now changes to abide by, but he was her immediate superior and thus, every decision of hers would have to be run by him in order to be approved. Jaime Lannister didn’t have what you’d call an approving face. He was all business, and with a high and mighty attitude that had no place coming here, if you asked her.

She quite detested the very sight of him.

---

The first time Brienne saw the cracks in Mean Jaime’s armour was when he dug into his own pockets to pay for Marillion to sing at the family concert he’d been so adamant was unnecessary spending.

It was an entirely selfless move that shook the ground for her. It had been months and months of solidifying a pretty strong case against him, against everything he stood for. She’d all but written speeches in her mind about why she wanted him gone, and then he went and pulled that.

Brienne didn’t like contesting her judgment.

---

The first time Brienne felt respect for Jaime Lannister, he was red-faced and sweaty in front of twenty cameras, passionately defending himself for the teenage decision that cost him the nickname ‘kingslayer’.

Nobody wanted to be known as a usurper, power-hungry and greedy and the only reason why he got ahead in the world was because he plotted against his boss. Yes, she’d done plenty of research on him when he’d showed up in her life. It wasn’t easy, dismantling all that biased information in order to see his side. But there was something sparking honourable behind the worn down exterior of the man.

Something she respected.

---

The first time Brienne was happy about Jaime’s presence, he almost left.

His father wanted him to return to his old job, and the disappointment she had felt at the news had surprised her. It would have been unprofessional to ask him to stay, however. Highly unprofessional. She did so, anyway, swallowing her pride, only to find out he was staying anyway.

Brienne shared a smile with him that she can’t shake off her mind.

---

The first time Brienne asked out Jaime Lannister, he turned her down.

It couldn’t have been surprising; Brienne had lived a life where men turning her down was the norm. But she had been so sure that the attraction was mutual. The way Jaime looked at her had been seemingly unmistakeable. He’d still said no. Turns out, Tyrion had warned him not to ask out co-workers. So when Jaime suggested they eat lunch in the office, of course she said yes.

It was the first time Brienne wondered if soulmates were real.

---

The first time Jaime kissed Brienne, she was so blown away by the romantic delight of it all that she could think of little else afterwards.

Despite several warnings from their superiors, despite knowing that they couldn’t, Jaime had fallen for her. He’d admitted so himself, and there was little Brienne could do in terms of sticking to the rules when it came to him.

It was frightening, how little she cared about policies when she got to be with him.

---

There were firsts after firsts after firsts, piled on top of each other, things that Jaime Lannister did that she wondered about, that she loved, that she hated, that she ultimately couldn’t live without.

“What are you doing?” Brienne asked, smiling with surprise at the sight of him after not having seen him for weeks.

He got down on one knee and her heart stopped as her throat tightened. “Oh gods, what are you doing?” she breathed out, standing stock still.

Sansa pushed open the door to the bathroom, walking inside where three other girls were reapplying their make up in front of the mirror, variations of catsuits and ‘slutty’ somethings, obviously.

The noise of the party shut off when the door closed behind her, and she walked over to an empty sink, bracing her hands on the edge and looking up at her reflection. One of the leaf things stuck to her forehead was slipping off from the sweat caused by a room packed with people, and she wrinkled her nose as she tried to wedge it into place.

Honestly, at this point, she might just take them off. So far, she’d been confused as Princess Fiona, Merida, and around fifteen guys had asked if she was a sexy tree.

After the third explanation, Sansa had given up on trying to pry relatively obscure DC comic knowledge from the minds of wasted teenagers. She supposed the effect of the costume was somewhat diffused without Jon and Theon at her side as Batman and Robin.

One of the girls next to her looked over and seemed to pause to consider what she was supposed to be -- Sansa purposefully didn’t take her eyes off the mirror as she continued to pretend to fix her eye leaves -- before seemingly giving up and turning back to her friends as they all left the bathroom.

Maybe if she’d had enough drinks, the costume thing wouldn’t bother her as much. Maybe she’d even have accepted the shirtless fireman’s offer to go into a more secluded corner of the house.

The door opened again and Sansa straightened up where she was leaning forward on the sink, glancing over to the girl that had just come in, not bothering to hide her surprise at her costume.

See, since Suicide Squad had come out, the number of Harley Quinns on Halloween had skyrocketed. It was less so this year than last, but still, the booty shorts and chance to wear fishnets and ponytails was too sexy for girls to pass up the opportunity.

However, Arkham City Harley Quinn? Red and black pants and corset with a choker?

“Poison Ivy,” the blonde called out as she walked over to the sinks, resting her hip against the edge and watching her. “Is that your natural hair colour?”

Sansa was almost rendered speechless, and she let out a bit of a laugh in relief. “Yes! Yes, it is, I mean-- I can’t believe you get my costume. I’ve been at this party for hours and no one’s even come close.”

The girl smiled at her, crossing her arms across her chest. “Yes, I’ve been asked why I took liberties with Margot Robbie’s Harley costume,” she shared with a bit of an eye roll. “Trashy, I think.”

Sansa laughed, suddenly delighted by this newcomer. “I’m Sansa,” she told her, holding her hand out.

“Are you sure you’re not toxic?” the girl wondered out loud, looking pointedly down at her hand, a smirk playing at her lips before uncrossing her arms to shake her hand. “Dany.”

Her grip was firm, practiced, and Sansa noticed her eyes were a curious shade of lilac under the heavy eye makeup, and fierce look to them. She let go off her hand and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear as Dany turned to the mirror, adjusting the grip of her ponytails. “So, Sansa,” she spoke up, looking at her through the reflection. “Did you come here with someone? Ivy is usually a couples costume.”

Though true, Sansa had to blush somewhat at the implication, because Dany was dressed as Harley, the other half of the ‘usual’ couples costume. “Just with two friends as Batman and Robin, but I’ve lost them at some point,” she replied honestly. “You?”

“Friends, as well,” Dany answered, dropping her hands from her head and turning back to her, a curious look on her face as she looked at her up and down. “Do you want to get a drink and laugh at the boys who try to approach us?”

Sansa felt her lips widen into a grin. “Yes,” she nodded at her. “Please.”

Dany smiled again, stepping back from the sink and yanking the door of the bathroom open, standing aside to let Sansa walk through first with a nod of her head. “Maybe later we can see how well we play together.”

The music blared loudly again as they left the bathroom, and Sansa felt the back of her neck heat up at her words, glancing over at Dany as she followed her out into the crowd. “I'll give you a shot so my skin doesn’t poison you,” she called back at her over her shoulder with a wink, noting, pleased, the look of surprise on the blonde’s face.