Maygen was quiet while her handmaiden, Rose, styled her hair in intricate braids. Rose was a lowborn girl from the South, but she knew how noble ladies did their hair. She thought that giving Maygen a Southern hairstyle would be a compliment to Cersei, who was a major fashion influence in the capitol.

Rose was quite pretty, nineteen years old with white blonde hair and wide gray eyes. Maygen supposed she might be the most beautiful girl in Winterfell.

Maygen winced at the sharp tug Rose gave her hair. "Seven hells, what was that for?" she demanded, and Rose laughed.

"You were leaning again. What are daydreaming about?" Rose asked.

"Jaime Lannister," Maygen admitted after a brief pause.

"The Kingslayer? Gods, Maygen, you've gone mad as Aerys."

"He's so handsome. I can't be the only girl who's noticed that."

"You're betrothed to Theon."

Maygen was tired of being reminded of that. "I know, Rose. I don't need reminding. Jaime is handsome, but he's a member of the Kingsguard and I'm betrothed."

Rose nodded, tying off the final braid. "Good. Now, you're all ready for the feast. Best get going."

Maygen started to stand, when a knock sounded at the door. Rose hurried to the door, peeking through. "Oh, my lord," she said, stepping aside and opening it fully.

Theon stood in the doorway. He wasn't dressed for the feast. Instead, he wore simple leathers that were no different than what he'd wear typically. The only difference was that he wore a pin. A simple gift Maygen had given him when they'd learned of their betrothal, but a kind gesture nonetheless. The pin was painted to look like gold, hammered into the shape of a kraken, the sigil of House Greyjoy. When she'd first given it to him, he'd thrown it in his fireplace with plans to melt it in his mind. Maygen had fled the room crying when he did that. Now, however, she knew that he'd kept it.

"Theon," she said quietly.

He seemed pained when he looked between Rose and Maygen. "Lady Baelish. I would like to escort you to the feast," he said, his face stretching into a smile.

"You're wearing the pin," she commented, not quite willing to let that tiny detail leave her mind.

"I am," he nodded.

She bit down on her lip, smiling. "You told me you were going to melt it down."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I've taken a liking to it. Now, are you going to let me take to you to the feast? I've half the mind to drink myself into a stupor."

Maygen looked back at Rose. "Do you think it's safe?" she teased.

Rose nodded. "Go on. He's your betrothed, and he's actually trying to be nice."

So, Maygen and Theon linked arms, and began to make their way down the hall.

When the pair reached the great hall, the feast was in full swing. King Robert had situated himself in the center of the hall with a group of kitchen wenches, laughing and drinking from a skin of wine. Theon let out a laugh, squeezing Maygen close to his side. "Looks like King Robert has the right idea," he said.

Maygen shoved him playfully. "Don't tell me you're joining him."

He rolled his eyes at that. "You know, on the iron islands we take saltwives. Sure, we have wives of our own, but they get boring after a little while. Iron born can't last only fucking one woman."

Maygen held back a remark about him haven't been on the iron islands since he was eight. "This makes me none the happier about our upcoming marriage," she pointed out.

Theon paused, sighing after a moment. "Fine, then. You want to be a cunt? I won't tell you what I've learned."

Her eyes darkened. "What have you learned?" she demanded.

"Oh, it's nothing really. No concern of yours."

Theon slid his arm free, wandering off toward Robb's table. "I swear to all seven of the gods, Greyjoy, if you don't tell me what the fuck you've learned, I will cut off your cock and feed it to the dogs," she stated, surprising even herself by her brashness.

His blue eyes widened. "Seven hells, Maygen."

"Tell me."

He slowly stepped closer. "Fine. We're to be wed in a week. Lady Catelyn has begun preparations for the ceremony."

"If this is some kind of twisted joke- -" she began.

"It's not. I promise, Maygen. That's why I was trying to act kind to you."

She nodded stiffly. "I'm sitting down. Sit with me if you like, but I don't mind if you sit with Robb. In fact, I'd prefer that."

Theon nodded as well. "I'll sit with Robb," he agreed.

Maygen watched as he made his way to Robb, sitting down. Almost instantly, he was laughing and drinking wine. "Ass," she muttered to herself.

She managed to find a mostly empty table, sitting down and leaning on her elbows. A servant passed by her table, setting down a flagon of wine. Maygen had never had a taste for the stuff, but she didn't care about that now. Her fingers curled around the handle, and she filled the glass before her to the brim. She took a long sip, the sweet taste of berries near overwhelming to her. Nonetheless, she drained the cup completely within a few sips.

She scanned the great hall, smiling at people as they passed. Many knew her as a kind girl, and she had a reputation to keep up. It didn't matter if she felt as if her head was going to burst with every thing running through it. She filled the cup a second time, but did not drink from it. Already, she wanted the feast to be over so she could go to bed. But the feast would not end for a long time. Without thinking, she began to sing. She found that in times of stress, singing helped her calm down.

"'And who are you', the proud lord said, 'that I must bow so low.' Only a cat of different coat, that's all the truth I know. In a coat of gold, or a coat of red, a lion still has claws. And mine are long and sharp my lord, as long and sharp as yours. And so he spoke, and so he spoke, that lord of Castamere. And now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear. Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall, and not a soul to hear."

As she finished the song, she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Was that you singing? I don't think I've heard that song sang so well," a man's voice said.

She spun around, meeting the emerald green eyes of Jaime Lannister. "Oh," she said softly. "Yes, it was."

He smiled, sitting down beside her. "Do you the story behind that song?"

"Of course. Wait, sorry. That sounded rude. Yes, I do know the story."

Jaime Lannister nodded, smiling a charming smile. "What's your name?"

"Maygen. Maygen Baelish. My father is- -" she began.

"The Master of Coin," Jaime finished.

"Yes, exactly."

"Your father is an interesting man. Have you ever met him?"

Maygen's face grew red at the question. "No, I haven't," she mumbled.

"Well, he only gave you as a ward when you were four. Surely you remember him," Jaime urged.

"I really don't. Lady Catelyn has told me about him, but I don't remember- -" she started to say.

"And you don't remember your mother, either? Must be a sad life. And you are a bastard, as well."

She continued growing steadily redder as Jaime spoke. "I've been legitimized," she whispered.

"Yes, I suppose you have been. Now, you must excuse me. I have to speak with my sister."

He rose from the table, hurrying off. Maygen furrowed her eyebrows, letting out a sigh. She had absolutely no idea what had just happened. She just knew that Jaime Lannister was not as kind as she'd expected.