Rickon

Sitting on the deck of the ship he looked at the horizon with anticipation. He could see the water wave constantly near the little ship in which they were traveling, mirroring its movement. But what Rickon was staring at was much further than that: the small undefined shape he could hardly see in the distance, but that Davos claimed was Westeros, and more concretely, the Wall. They were moving quickly towards it, but they were still far away, and they would have to travel for another hour to get there.

The ship Lord Manderly had given Lord Davos in White Harbor, which was called Little Mermaid, was old and small, so it didn't draw unwanted attention. Lord Davos had sailed in it from White Harbor to Skagos, and from there back to White Harbor, with Rickon and his new family. Now they were finishing their voyage from White Harbor to Eastwach by the Sea. There were only 10 men in the crew, because they didn't need more oarsmen to make the little ship move. If the wind was in their favor, it was enough just to lift the sails. If not, the oarsmen rowed to continue the journey, sometimes with Keit's and Wex's help.

The prospect of meeting his half-brother upset Rickon. The last time they had seen each other, Rickon hadn't even been four years old. He didn't remember Jon, and he probably wouldn't recognize Rickon, who was hardly more than a baby when Jon left Winterfell to take the black.

The only living person that would remember him, apart from Osha, would be Bran, he thought. But nobody knew where Bran was, or even if he was still alive. The girls had also disappeared, and anyway, he scarcely remembered them. He might see them again, but he wouldn't see them as his family any longer. Now he had a mother, a grandmother, an older brother and a sister (Lyra.) He had even started to think of Deiro as a little brother, and he missed him, now that they were apart. That was his family: the one that hadn't abandoned him.

But Rickon didn't think about that often. He spent most of the time playing with Lyra to chase each other, and sometimes Keit and Wex played with them too. Osha was in charge of cooking the meals and she tried to keep everything tidy, and sometimes Rickon and his friend helped her, too. That way they could keep themselves entertained for most of the journey, and he didn't reflect on such unpleasant things.

Davos had promised that morning that they would arrive before the sun set, and Rickon could see it was true, because far away he could see the land, and the Wall, getting near quickly as they moved forward. That was the reason why he was gloomy: the moment was about to come. And he couldn't remember how Jon looked like, or how he would recognize him.

When they arrived, they found the harbor at Eastwach almost empty. Some black brothers welcomed them, and when Davos asked about the small number of ships anchored, the men said that most of the ships of the Night's Watch had been sent away for a mission in a place called Hardhome, and they hadn't yet returned.

One of the men that greeted them bid them to wait for him to call the rangers that had come from Castle Black to Eastwach to welcome them and escort them to Castle Black. He came back after some minutes, accompanied by a tall and big man, a small ugly man with large ears and a dark-haired boy that seemed to be about 10 years old, the three of them wearing black. When they were near, the small man asked the boy that had come with the men if he was truly Rickon Stark.

"Yes, he is," the boy replied. "But he doesn't know who I am."

That annoyed Rickon: he didn't like not to recognize someone who knew him. Could it be Jon? He had been told that Jon was a man grown now, and the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, but he couldn't think of any other answer to the mystery of the boy's identity.

"Jon?" Rickon asked, uncertain.

The boy laughed, making Rickon angry. It infuriated him when people laughed at him, as if he had done something foolish or childish. He was on the verge of shouting at him, threatening to make Shaggy bite his face until it was all bloody if he didn't shut up, when he explained himself.

"Jon is in Castle Black. I am your sister, Arya."

"No. You're a boy! You can't be Arya!" Rickon complained, refusing to let this boy make fun of him.

"I'm a girl, truly! I don't want to do it, but I can prove it if you won't believe me," he said, starting to pull his pants down.

"It's fine then, I believe you," Rickon said quickly. If he was willing to do it, he surely was a girl.

"Very well, then," Arya said, beckoning not only him, but all of his party too. "Come with us now, Jon is waiting for us."

They went to the stables and picked a horse for each one of them. The journey from Eastwach to Castle Black took them 5 days of intense riding, and 4 nights sleeping in barely manned castles. When they finally got there they were dirty and tired, but happy for having finished the travel. Jon knew immediately who he was, and he could recognize Jon easily because of the white direwolf that walked beside him.

They were left alone for the rest of the day, so Rickon could eat with his new family, and they prepared a hot bath for each of them and gave them rooms to sleep. Rickon was given one to share with Keit, while Osha had to share her room with Lyra and Davos slept with Wex. After leaving his things in his room, he spent most of the evening exploring Castle Black with Lyra, Keit and Wex.

The next day, Jon called them to announce that he had been legitimized by Stannis, and that he would act as Lord of Winterfell until Rickon was of age. After that, Rickon would have to assume all the titles, lands and responsibilities he had inherited. He also told them to attend a dinner in the King's Tower, where they would meet Queen Selyse and her daughter, Princess Shireen. The priestess Melisandre would also be in attendance, and Jon had asked Arya to come too. Rickon refused to go, but Jon told him it was a command, and he could not disobey it. Furious but resigned, Rickon had no choice but to accept it.

Jon also told Rickon to take fencing lessons. He had never been taught how to wield a sword, because he had had to flee Winterfell when he was 4, and the only thing he knew about sword fighting was that it was a kind of sport with 2 swords that clashed with each other, and that you had to try to defeat your rival without getting hurt. Iron Emmett was especially patient with him, because he was just a child, and because it was his first class.

But the only person that offered to challenge him was Arya, who always beat him, seemingly without effort. That frustrated him. Even though he was used to seeing women that could fight (in Skagos, most of them were spearwives) he had never been defeated by a girl. The lessons that Keit had given him to teach him to fight with a spear were only for Deiro and him, because the other kids in the village were either almost expert using the spear, or too small and weak to hold one properly. Deiro had been his only rival, and even though he sometimes beat him, that wasn't a problem for Rickon, because he also won sometimes, too. When his training session was over he was exhausted, frustrated and angry. He just wanted to lock himself in his room, where unless Keit was there, he could enjoy a moment of solitude to cry, scream and unburden himself as a kid would.

When he got in and saw that the room was empty, he picked up the cushions on his bed and threw them to the floor with all his strength, and when he had thrown them he punched the bed with his right fist, then with his left, and after that with his right again. He hit as hard as he could, as though his bed was some kind of enemy he was fighting against. And each time he stroke he screamed loudly and cried. He cried because he didn't know how to use a sword, because his family had been destroyed without warning or reason before they could teach him how to grip one properly. He cried because they had taken from him everything he had and loved, and he never knew why, or what he could do to prevent it. He cried because he hadn't been able to fight. He cried for Winterfell. He cried for the father he had lost, and could scarcely remember. He cried for his mother, who had gone away from him so soon. He cried for Robb, the elder brother he would never see again. He cried for the sisters he had forgotten, and the one he had found impossible to recognize. He cried for the unknown man who was his father's son, but whom he couldn't see as a brother. When the physical exertion tired him out, he lay down, sobbing, with his eyes closed, until he got asleep.

"Hey Rickon, wake up!" He heard Osha call him while some hands shook him to get him up.

"Leave me! I don't want to get up," Rickon complained, even though he knew that however stubborn he could be, arguing with Osha was a waste of time.

"And I don't want to get you up, but I'll carry you in my arms and drag you to the King's Tower if you keep refusing. Your brother commanded us to attend this dinner to introduce you to the queen, so we must go."

A ridiculous dinner with a queen is the last thing I need now, Rickon thought. He would have to be polite and mind his manners. He wouldn't be left alone until bedtime. But after complaining a bit more, he finally agreed to follow her.

When they arrived, he saw the others were already seated around a large table. Jon introduced them with everyone they didn't know, starting with the First Steward and the First Builder of the Night's Watch, then with Val, a woman of the Free Folk that was called by many "the wildling princess", even though both she and Jon explained again and again that "wildlings" didn't use that title, and last but not least, the queen, her daughter Shireen, and the priestess Melisandre.

"Then, Lord Stark, you mean to renounce to your rights to your father's lands and titles to give them to your younger brother?" Selyse asked Jon after the introductions were made.

"I do, Your Grace. I only accepted Winterfell because I thought all my brothers were dead, and that I was the only one of my father's sons that was alive. Now that I know that it's not so, I want to give the lands and titles of my family to Rickon. However, I mean to wield all the power and bear all the responsibilities of his position as his regent, until he is 16 years old."

"So, Rickon would be Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and Lord Paramount of the North," Selyse said, thoughtful. "The boy seems to be a little wild and temperamental, and it is evident that he has not received an education befitting his birth, but he is still very young, and it can be solved. I will accept your decision, Lord Jon, but the future Lord of Winterfell will have a proper education. I will personally take charge of this, taking him under my custody and responsibility. Rickon Stark will be my ward, until he comes of age."

"I don't want to be anybody's ward!" Rickon complained. "I want to live with my mother and my siblings! I don't want to!" and he started to sob again, uncontrollably.

"Rickon, you know that Mother is not coming back. And your siblings are us, and we're right here. It's not so bad," Arya tried to comfort him. But she didn't understand that Rickon's mother was Osha, and they wouldn't let her stay with him. That his siblings now were Lyra and Keit, and that he wouldn't change them for anyone, except maybe for Bran.

"Excuse the little lord. He's just a boy, and he isn't used to being awake so late. By your leave, Your Grace, may I take him to bed?" Osha asked Selyse. She let them go. Osha lifted and carried him, but by the time when they reached the room Rickon was already fast asleep.