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FREYA had certainly got herself into a sticky situation.
She had only made the wager to make her brother angry, but now she actually had to fall through with it or she'd lose money. She even told Selene, who had never been so giddy to dress her in her entire life. Selene put her lady in a dark, navy dress, and adorned a heavy, black cape on her shoulders. She did her hair up slightly, like the southerners did, which Freya did not enjoy – but she did do this to herself. The banquet for the king was tonight, and her handmaiden was set on making her look anything but herself.
"You are ready," Selene smiled, turning her lady around. "You'll be one of the prettiest girls in the room."
Freya sighed before relieving herself from her chamber. Theon waited outside, ready to escort her to the banquet, but she was surprised to see his mouth drop. "What?" Freya snapped, touching her face. "Is there something wrong with me? How ugly do I look?"
"No, it's ..." Theon swallowed down a lump in his throat. "You look very beautiful, Freya."
She frowned before lacing her arm through his. "Liar," she muttered as they led each other down to the great hall of Winterfell. "But be prepare to lose, brother."
•••
The music from the band had never been louder. Freya wanted to cover her ears, but was afraid she would offend. Laughter erupted all around her, and King Robert was getting bawdy with a wench – right in front of his wife's eyes. Catelyn and Cersei sat at the table above, and the southern blonde looked incredibly disgusted at the sight before her.
Freya was going to eat at the feast, but after realizing that she would be squished in between people who were strangers, she decided to skip the meal. She looked to her right, spotting Benjen Stark walking over to visit his brother. Last she heard, he was up at the Wall, defending against the Wildling invaders and "White Walkers." Sounded like a bunch of rubbish to her.
Freya chuckled at witnessing Arya flip food onto Sansa's face. Theon hesitantly nudged her side, saying over the music, "When are you going to do it?" He pointed ahead, and she followed his vision to Jaime Lannister and Lord Stark conversing. "Go now, sister, or you lose!"
With a low groan, Freya made her way over to the corner of the hall, hearing Ned reply just over the music, "I don't fight in tournaments because when I fight a man for real, I don't want him to know what I can do." She grabbed a goblet of wine from a servant passing by. She'd definitely need it.
"Well said," Jaime had grinned as Freya walked to stand beside Lord Stark.
Ned pushed her in front of him, much to her surprise. "Freya! Have you been acquainted with Jaime Lannister?"
"Actually, my lord –"
"That's lovely. I must go." Ned interrupted before walking away.
Freya was in panic mode, searching for words inside her head. Think about the coin, she told herself. Think about the coin. Think about the coin. Think about the coin.
"Welcome to the North, Ser Jaime!" She greeted, giddier than usual. "I hope you have been enjoying your stay thus far."
"Who are you again?"
Her face dropped, and she could've sworn she saw her brother laughing in the distance. "Freya, from House Greyjoy."
"Ah, I see," Jaime nodded. "My fat brother-in-law did some damage to your family, hasn't he?"
Freya flashed an uncomfortable smile, swirling the wine around in her glass. "You could say that."
Jaime looked her up and down as she glanced off to the side. "Well, Lady Freya, you do look lovely tonight." He then viewed to the back of the room, where Cersei sat. "Have you seen my sister? You both seem to have the same hairstyle – very beautiful indeed."
Freya's expression flattened as Jaime stared at his sister in false awe. Was this rumor really being confirmed before her eyes? "Um, Ser Jaime –" she tapped his leather-clad shoulder "I –"
"I really should go talk with her," Jaime muttered – to himself, essentially – and walked away from Freya.
Her mouth went agape. Freya knew she wasn't beautiful, but was she really that uninteresting? She was a practically hostage, for Gods sake! Was that not interesting enough? Apparently, not to Jaime Lannister, who was chatting it up with his sister at the moment.
Freya gulped down the rest of the wine in her goblet, and just as she finished the cup, a hand was slapped on the side of her shoulder. Theon, still laughing at the fool she made of herself, said, "That was extremely entertaining to watch, dear sister."
She had a feeling that she was going to lose their bet, so Freya had snuck a coin sack in her cape. She put the sack in her brother's hand with a frown. "It wasn't too bad," she replied, grabbing another free goblet from a servant. "I put up a challenge for myself. How was I supposed to know the rumors were true?" The siblings casted their eyes to the Lannisters at the front table.
"No, Greyjoy, that was very sad to watch."
Freya glanced at Robb walking their way, looking almost clean with his freshly-shaven face and slicked back locks. She grumbled at the sight of him, "I'd rather not tonight, Stark."
"But you'd rather with Jaime Lannister?" Robb laughed sarcastically. "Quite a choice."
Freya's eyes formed into slits. "I'd like to see you do better." She waved a hand in his face. "Gods, you two are both such children."
Robb gave her an angered smile. "Careful, Greyjoy," he warned while walking away, "your manly shoulders are showing."
Freya immediately felt for one shoulder on instinct, but when realizing Robb had been playing a joke, she tried going after him. She half-tripped on her dress and was saved when her brother pulled at her side. "Can you try to be a lady for one night?" Theon shook his head. "Now, if you don't mind, Robb and I are going to find some girls. Try not to hit anyone until tomorrow morning."
She watched her brother stride off, but all Freya could manage was sucking down another goblet of wine. What a disaster.
